The Unofficial Parody of The Hobbit
by Alteng
Summary: It's what the title says. Let's say, just plain silliness.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: My friend James and I were talking aboutdoing terrible things to Middle Earth, and I remembered this piece. Unlike the other active goodies I have on this site, I actually did finish this one, and it is sitting in my closet. I just need to do the typing. You wouldn't want to read my chicken scrawl! I am placing this in the "Lord of the Rings" section, because I don't really want to put it in the "Miscellaneous", and "The Hobbit" was the prequel to "TLOTR". I wrote this piece when I 13, so it does sound very much like a 13 year old. I have not changed the names, places, or titles of the chapter. This was written for fun, and it is to be taken in that sense, mind you. Of course, I don't own the rights to "The Hobbit", and if the Tolien estate ever saw this, not only would JRR be rolling over in his grave, but I would get lynched!

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Party

In a smelly hole in the ground that could have easily passed for a sewer inlet, there lived an equally smelly hobbit. What's this bull I hear that you have no idea what a hobbit is! Geez! You must have been out of contact with the world since infancy. Since you don't know, I shouldn't tell you, but, then, what would be the point of the this whole story. Mother Nature is not quite sure why she created these creatures, except possibly to be some universal pests. And you thought that cockroaches were bad! Wait until you understand the total magnitude of what a hobbit is. Due to the constant pounding into the ground that they receive from each other (and other outside forces), they are thankfully quite small. Their usual choice in clothing is greens and browns, so that they can camouflage themselves from their pounders (and Orkin), and it helps in being unseen as they throw garbage at passerbyers. Their greatest joy in life is their special cute little garbage gardens that they thrill in rolling about in. Thus, this gives a good enough reason to account for their sliminess (which comes in quite handily when they slide through an attacker's fingers). Their hair is brown and curly, due to lack of washing and everything said to them curls it (Even though their fine vocabulary could make a New York street gang blush). Hobbits are also exceedingly cheap. They get one pair of shoes in a lifetime. So, after fifty years of constant wear and tear of the same shoes, they tend to end up barefooted. All that remains is the tops of the shoes tied firmly around their ankles. Well, our particular smelly ill-tempered hobbit is by the honorable name (i.e., honorable to hobbits) Bilbo Baggins.

The Baggins were a very old and particularly smelly family. The name has been held on high ever since Roughage Grummage Baggins discovered the Dragon Droppings Swamp, but sadly, he died in the process of the discovery. (It really had something to do with the quite sizeable troll he was throwing some not so agreeable garbage that he found in the bottom of the diaper hamper at him.) Let's say that he made a headlong dive into his discovery. Mrs. Burpa Baggins and her thriving twelve sons and fourteen daughters ( a small hobbit family) inherited the land, which eventually became a dumping ground to family's vast joy and wealth.

Stoolart Baggins (dear ole' Bilbo's dad) suckered his wife, Pile-a Took of the Crook persuasion into buying him the primary dumping ground of the surrounding towns. Sadly, he, his wife, and all of at least fifty of Bilbo's other siblings perished in the dumping of great shiny pointy nasty object in the year 2915 TA. Bilbo survived the tragedy because his brothers decided to stuff him into a bread box. There was no real reason behind this, except Bilbo was the runt of the litter, and they were just wondering if he would fit. Anyway, after the rather slicing and dicing experience, Bilbo became a confirmed bachelor in name only.

Well, upon the very fine day this story begins (A dark and stormy day), Gandalf the Weirdo came a-knocking. Gandalf was not the type of person you would like to meet in a dark alley (or a brightly lit one, at that . . . or a well lit busy street . . . )He gets his kicks from whips and chains in the conventional sense. He has a part time job in the Spanish Inquisition. His hobbies include apothecaries (that he gladly practices on friends and neighbors). He does furring on live and kicking animals. He also does have the habit of losing friends in the most untidy of ways, and then afterwards, he does a few experiments in the ways of anatomy and tagging the different internal organs. (Death is not a prerequisite for this activity).

On this fine day, he sat upon a pile of Bilbo's finest garbage and blew out smoke rings of a most peculiar odor. Bilbo floated out of his hole to sniff up this new and unique stench. He eyed over his visitor on his special garbage pile, as did the other with very different thoughts about each other. Gandalf was placing a sure bet that this creature had many and various unique organs to tag, and all Bilbo was interested in was some interesting tobacco, tag or no tag.

"Well," said Gandalf.

"Well, what?" asked Bilbo.

"You're perfect. A total dingbat. Just what I need!"

"What on Middle Earth are you talking about? I am perfect for what! Who do you think you are! I order you to pack up your bags and scoot off my garbage pile! But leave your pipe behind!"

"Enough!" Screamed Gandalf, as he created a ring of fire around himself and Bilbo. Gandalf always did wonder what it would be like to be roasted, but this was not the time nor the place. Business before pleasure. There would be plenty of opportunities later in the story. Bilbo, by this time, was in a frenzy. All his lovely hard earned collection of the moldiest nastiest stinkiest garbage was being destroyed.

"Please, dear kind sir, stop this fire, so that I may keep my favorite things in life. You are destroying my favorite debris! And a hobbit can only be judged by how tall his garbage patch is."

"Oh, all right, I'll stop." The fire disappeared. "Then I shall return tomorrow about teatime with a bigger surprise than today's."

With a flash of lightening, he disappeared. Bilbo went quietly and calmly into his house, crawled silently under his bed, and had a nice little nervous breakdown.

The next day was Wednesday, dumping day (i.e., when the Rumpke truck came around deposited its treasure troth). Bilbo crawled from under his bed. Feeling much relieved, he stretched and went for breakfast. Just after he ate everything in sight (including several attempts on his neighbors) for breakfast, a loud ring came at the doorbell. "Oh my," thought Bilbo, "Gandalf didn't forget to come!" So, dimwittingly, he opened the door, and in rolled a very old dwarf.

"Dwalin at your mistake of your lifetime."

Bilbo was a little disturbed by this, but he just simply forgot it. He welcomed the dwarf to some food and drink ( that he conveniently filched from his neighbors' refrigerator that morning). Bilbo had hoped that this fellow was the replacement for Gandalf. The hobbit had just settled down to hog out on his 58th breakfast (or, if you like, his third lunch), when an enormous ring came from the doorbell. Bilbo demonstrated some of his finer points of the aforementioned vocabulary. He was sure that it was Gandalf this time. It was, in fact, another dwarf.

"Balin, at your destruction."

Bilbo gave Balin a queer look. The dwarf frowned and remarked, "I don't swing that way."

The hobbit blanched and led the dwarf to the other room, where Dwalin was. Dwalin and Balin acted like they knew each other, and they were soon quarreling. Actually, the two were brothers, but that was really no reason for them to know each other, but, on the other hand, it was an excellent reason for them to quarrel. Bilbo was starting to feel another nervous breakdown coming on, but he could hold it for now. Then came an ear-piercing ring from the bell. Bilbo thought, "That ingrate Gandalf! He should be here by now, but, of course, he has to send these pesky dwarves to take care of his business. I am tired of this, and I am missing my soaps."

He opened the door and in came two more dwarves.

"Fili and Kili at your deathbed."

Bilbo welcomed them in. He just settled them down at the table, when an ear piercing enormously loud ring screeched came from the doorbell, as if the doorbell was completely torn off in a most painful way, that made most people of the male persuasion cross their legs and turn interesting shades of purple. Bilbo felt that nervous breakdown coming on again, especially after one of the dwarves handed him his mutilated doorbell.

"Oin, Gloin ,Ori, Nori, and Dori at your funeral."

Well, Bilbo acted cheerful and led the dwarves to the table, then he calmly went upstairs. He crawled under his bed and had the second nervous breakdown of the week.

"I think the little fellow may have been working too hard," remarked Kili through a mouthful of turkey.

"He finally lost it!" remarked Ori, spewing out bit of boar and wine as he spoke.

"He never had to lose it," added Gloin, as he gnawed at his chicken bone.

Fili took a broom and pounded on the ceiling. "Shut up, up there. There are people trying to eat down here."

"I wonder if the fellow may be a tad bit upset or something," pondered Dori, as he pondered the strange unidentifiable piece of meat that inched menacingly up his fork at him.

"I wouldn't be knowing," answered Nori, who grabbed the fork away from his kin, stomped the threatening chunk into the floor, then scraped it up and put it between two pieces of bread.

"He's certainly making enough noise about it!" Dwalin complained.

"What do you expect out of one of his kind?" Balin remarked.

"My, he certainly has no respect for his company," stated Oin, whose mug was empty and he was provoked into braving the cellar for another keg of beer.

Then a loud knock came at the door. Bilbo came calmly down the stairs and opened the door. Four more dwarves fell in. (They were all listening to Bilbo's racket with their ears glued to the door.) Bilbo, by now, felt better. "This certainly has been a freaky Wednesday!" he thought to himself. The four dwarves got off the floor, and three of them said quite brightly:

"Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur at your wrathful ghost."

Bilbo started back up the steps, but Gandalf appeared and brought him back down before he could have that third nervous breakdown. The four dwarves quickly acquainted themselves with the food, whatever it might be. The fourth dwarf was Thorin, and he felt no need for introductions or to say at your anything. Even though he was too high up to introduce himself, he was certainly not too choosy about his free meals! Bilbo came down the stairs grumbling about everything thought possible and quite a few things impossible. The dwarves, to make things worse for the poor fellow, picked up the dishes and started to clean them.

"Clean the glasses and wash the plates

Scrub the knives and wipe the forks

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates.

Put the corks on the bottles!

"With clean cloth, wash the treaded fat!

Clean the milk from the pantry floor!

Pick up the bones from the bedroom mat

Wash the blood from every door.

"Take the crocks from the bowling bowl.

Pound Bilbo with a thumping pole;

And when you've finished, if any are whole,

Send him down the hall to roll!

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

So, carefully, carefully with the plates!"

Bilbo was completely crushed. All his wonderful collection of dirt and mold was destroyed. Gandalf decided it was time to explain what he was planning to be done to him.

"Well, since there is no use in letting Thorin explain why we are gathered together here today, because we would be here all week, and that would ruin my well-laid plans . . ."

"I resent that remark. We can always have you replaced," Thorin grumbled.

"All right, then, do your stuff."

The dwarves gathered their instruments and sang a song that filled Bilbo with mystery. (Of course, that could have been due to the Ex-Lax cocoa that Bofur had slipped him.) He was flying in the vision (that could have been due to the fact that Gandalf was still creating those interesting smelling smoke rings), and he fell into the Black Sea, where he was drowning (and he was thoroughly enjoying himself). Just then the music stopped (and Gandalf ran out of interesting tobacco).

"Oh darn!" Bilbo exclaimed.

Gandalf flashed lightening in his face. (His fury really had to do with that empty pipe.) Bilbo fainted.

After he revived, he said, "Oh, what a feeling!"

"Did you get anything out of that song?" asked Gandalf.

"Not really. Unless it had something to do with drowning in the Black Sea."

"Well, it's simple. Thorin and his people got the boot in the seat for saying naughty things about the king's mother. They moved off to Lonely Mountain, the dragon showed up, had a grand barbeque, chased off Thorin and Company. We want you to go get the gold off of the dragon without getting us fried."

"Is that all?"

"Do you have any more granola bars?" Bombur asked.

Ignoring his fat cousin, Thorin answered (so that we could finally get this chapter over with), "Yeah, kind of. If you don't do as we ask, we will be having one hell of a weenie roast, and you will be playing the starring role."

"Oh, I guess I will be agreeing to this deal then."

"Thorin, here is the key that your father gave me to give to you after a rather not so nice poker game. And here is the map. So, you can go off and eavesdrop on Good ole' Smaug."

"How did you get your grimy hands on these! My father neither trusted you nor liked you! So, why did he give you these things?" asked Thorin.

"I have my ways. A word of advice. Never question a wizard, who is in a foul mood."

Thorin eyed him, but said no more on the subject. "Tomorrow we start our journey, Mr. Baggins."

"And you are providing us with breakfast," Gandalf so gently informed him, "My order first, I want three live and kicking hogs, four well-prepared vulture eggs, and two hobbits over easy with a twist of lemon."

After Gandalf placed his order, no one felt like talking about food anymore. So, Bilbo fixed them all a place to sleep. He, himself, slept under the bed, where he really felt at home anyway. All night long he heard in his ears (other than Thorin's snoring), "Let's go Krogering!"


	2. Chapter 2: Roast Mutton

A/N: My thanks to TheLady of Light and Glorfindel for putting up with this story! And yes, I have read this book too many times, trust me! And since James got a good giggle out of the first chapter, and I will continue typing this out.

Again, this is a very old piece. So, if any of my regulars read this, I was much younger then, and it was funnier then.

As for a disclaimer, do I look like JRR Tolkien! Now really!

Chapter 2: Roast Mutton

Up jumped Bilbo out of a terrible nightmare about housecleaning. Dizzy at first, due mostly to banging his head in the box spring of the bed when he woke up, he realized that he had awoken at his usual time (i.e., one o'clock in the afternoon). He slithered down the stairs to find no one (with the exception of his rat co-habitants) about the place. There was a fearful mess in the room and piles of unwashed crocks in the kitchen. Nearly every pot and pan he possessed seemed to have been used. He was happy again for a fleeting moment. He thought all of last night was a bad dream caused by all the beer he had drank. This theory was quickly dismissed. He didn't have any beer last night, but he did do quite a bit of smoking, and Belly Bellbottom did sell some strange home-grown tobacco. Oh well, the mess was back with some added goodies. He dug through all the dirt to find the clothes and the bones of his neighbors (no big loss). Now he knew that Gandalf and his merry dwarves had been there (not to mention, there was a large carving in the door that read, "We were here!"). Surprisingly enough, he didn't go back upstairs and crawl back under his bed. In all actuality, he saw no reason to appease his growling gut. So, he pigged out forty-nine times on some well hidden stashes that the dwarves didn't know of, he was about to sit down to his fiftieth meal when Gandalf showed up at five minutes till two.

"You vile slime covered little . . ." the wizard began.

"Thank you," answered Bilbo, deeply touched.

"You won't think so if you don't get across your pitiful little garbage dump in five minutes!" (Which really no easy task, due to five miles worth of his extensive treacherous garbage garden . . .)

"If I am so needed, why didn't you wake me before you left. I have no obligations to those, who don't want me for a chore that I didn't volunteer for in the first place."

"Oh, we want you along. Hobbits are so expendable. It was just that you were having such happy dreams of pain and torture, and we just couldn't bring ourselves to wake you."

"Oh."

"So, you should step on it, or I will demonstrate some of my more unique techniques of my other professions," Gandalf answered with a thin smile and the rattle of something that sounded remarkably like iron chains in his vast pocket.

Bilbo ran across his garbage garden with an amazing speed. Just in time, Bilbo, panting with exhaustion and the sniffing of noxious fumes, made it across the swamp, that once upon a time was a pretty little woodland with a little crystal clear stream before the hobbits burrowed into it. Balin met Bilbo at the finish line painted on the ground in what looked like blood.

"Oh," remarked Balin, " I see that you choose the slow method over the more expedient method."

Being hobbit through and through, Bilbo asked, "When's lunch?"

The dwarves ignored him, but they did give him a pipe and plenty of their special tobacco. (They had visited Belly Bellbottom's shop, too.) They trekked through the treacherous garbage piles of Hobbitland. The going was excruciatingly slow. Most of this lack of speed had to do with Gandalf had their feet chained together with the aforementioned chains in his pockets. It didn't help that Bombur had the knack of finding sink holes in the landfills either.

On rainy night, before they were able to reach the safety of the outside world, they were attacked by ravenous hobbits, and all of their food supplies and other interesting accessories were stolen. Down hearted and threatening to shut up the whining Bilbo permanently, they paused in a clearing. Bofur set about seeing how to free them from their chains. He had experience in these things, and he had become a good lock pick as a result. After a success, Balin drew the short straw and was volunteered to be the lookout. On duty, he saw a light in the distance, and deciding that it was not his time to go yet, he alerted the others. It was unanimously decided that they send the expendable hobbit to check it out. Bilbo didn't remember voting in this situation. He really had no winning argument to get out of this, because the dwarves threatened to tell Gandalf about the hobbit's misbehavior, and no one wanted to experience one of Gandalf's special punishments for naughty hobbits.

Bilbo crept up on the light, where he saw three oversized trolls. They were merrily talking in a language very foreign to a hobbit's ear.

"My dear William, you have been so kind in your endeavors to feed us, but I am so very weary of the flesh of sheep. Could you be so kind as to find something else for our dining pleasure?"

"Oh, my dearest Bert, you know I have such a hard time cooking the other fineries, but I will strive to improve," answered the troll called William.

"I think I am going to be sick!" Growled the third troll.

"Please do, Tom. It will be something different from mutton to eat!" Exclaimed Bert.

"Why me, lord!" Answered Tom.

After hearing this, Bilbo did deposit a compliment behind a bush. He had been holding for too long, and this was his first chance at privacy. Feeling much relieved, he gave into his instincts and sneaked up behind William. With the crack of knuckles, he went about picking the monstrously sized bigger person's pocket. Bert, being the hungry sort that he was, was looking for an alternative to mutton, when he saw the furry creature at William's pocket.

"My good William, there seems to be an appetizer at your pocket. So you think you may be able to make a delicious delicacy out of it?" Bert announced with his heart all a flutter.

"Oh my," replied William, plucking the hobbit from his pocket, "It's a cute little bunny rabbit. It wouldn't be very neighborly to just come out and eat the little fellow, now would it at that?"

"But it wasn't very neighborly of you to go out and cook those sheep, now was it, William?" reminded Bert.

"Would you just get on with it and cook the bugger already!" exclaimed Tom.

"But, my dear Tom and my dear Bert, those sheep were worth the effort. This little bitty bunny rabbit wouldn't even make me a mouthful, much less the three of you. Besides, you know I don't have a recipe for cooking much else than sheep," he replied with a blush.

"Oh, William, he could be an after meal candy. We could cut him up in threes, and we wouldn't have to cook him either." Suggested Bert.

"No. I am certain he wouldn't appreciate that much. It would be so painful on his part. I just couldn't do anything so cruelly to him," answered William.

"William, you asinine jerk!" Bert said well-mannerly, "You kill him first!"

"Oh, Bert, I just couldn't."

"You have before. We could just ever so gently bash his brains out."

"No."

Bert politely punched William in the jaw. William cleared his throat very gentle trolly and handed Bilbo to Tom. He stood up and courteously beat the hell out Bert. Bert smirked and kindly knocked the hell out of William. When that was out of their systems, they resumed their places back by the fire.

"So, there may be more of them," suggested Tom.

"So, little rabbit," said William to Bilbo, who was doing the most unusual thing in Tom's hand (and it was best not to discuss this bit), "Are there more scrumptious little morsels about here?"

"Yes! Yes! Many! More than I can count! They are bigger than me. They are having a wild party, and they are so smug about it, that they didn't even invite you!" answered Bilbo.

"But I am no party crasher!" complained William.

"Sure you are," Bert pointed out, "Don't you remember that big hoe down at West Town last Saturday?"

"I am not, and I was invited!"

"Well, you are going to be a party crasher this time!"

"I will not!"

Again William and Bert politely knocked the stuffings out of each other. Tom gracefully held Bilbo over his opened mouth while his companions were otherwise occupied. A random foot came from the politely squabbling pair, and Bilbo went flying and Tom went cringing in some serious pain as he grasped the wounded part of his anatomy.

Meanwhile, the dwarves heard all the noise and got quite interested. They figured that Bilbo had found a party, and knowing their furry, slimy companion as they did, he wouldn't invite them. With an anticipation of a free meal, they jumped into the firelight. The trolls stopped fighting and dancing around in pain, as the case may be. .They looked toward the dwarves and a cultivated ly drooled with great expectations. Suddenly, the day became light. The trolls let out a delicate scream. The dwarves, hobbit, and wizard gazed at stoned trolls with vast satisfaction on all their faces.

"I couldn't let these trolls eat you. Trolls are such bad cooks. Smaug does such a better job of it," answered Gandalf.

"I will choose to ignore that remark, considering the source," stated Thorin.

"And what could you do about it anyway?" countered Gandalf.

Still ignoring Gandalf, Thorin cleared his throat.

"Being true blooded dwarves, as most of us here are, we should go and put an increase to our wealth, that will be reclaimed from Smaug . . ."

"He means," said Fili, "Let's go and rip off all the worldly goods of these stoned trolls."

They found the cave, which was full of many and various thing and not all of them legal or of a savory manner . . . The centerfold poster of Bertha, Bert's third cousin, that belonged to William was enough to make most of the party toss their cookies. Bombur looked her over and nodded. He found her quite attractive. On the more profitable side of things, they found lots of gold, jewels, swords, fresh well kept meat and many and various well-fed rats. Bilbo attacked the rats. He was a bit more than a little hungry. After several kicks of the hobbit in several tender spots, the dwarves convinced Bilbo to bury the treasure. Bilbo, like all hobbits, was an excellent borrower. This turned out to be a good thing for him. It got more dirt on his body. The dwarves packed up all the food (more free meals).

Thorin chose a sword, as did Gandalf with a wicked grin and a glint in his eyes. Bilbo, with a similar look, chose a dagger. It was not wise to let Gandalf near sharp pointy object, but he was the biggest and meanest in the party, and no one was willing to lose limbs to challenge him. This is not say that it was safe for Bilbo to have a weapon, but no one (They were all putting claims to their special treasures, and Bombur rolled up the poster of Bertha and stuck it in his back pocket.) was paying him any attention, so they didn't notice.

After a sizeable party, Gandalf decided that it was time to pay their "old buddy" Elrond a visit. The dwarves cheered, and if Bilbo wasn't so confused, he'd cheer too.


	3. Chapter 3: A Short Rest

A/N: My thanks out to my reviewers . . . crazyrabidfangurl, The Lady of Light, and Glorfindel34. I appreciate the enthusiasm. I promise to repay the favor in the near future. Oh, and the story is getting some improvements as it goes along. I never can retype two pieces the same (or type from the chicken scrawl that was my handwriting), and especially since I am older now. So, perhaps, my vocabulary was not as good when I was 13, but because of the retyping, I am adding in things. The story on my desk is from when I was 13. How's that. Something has to account for the humor.

Chapter 3 is the best, but I don't like elves anyway, so there! (See my Fictionpress stories!) because of the rave reviews, I have been updating frequently, and you guys are ahead of James. Chapter 4 needs some major work. (I may not like elves, but I tend to like the goblins, what can I say). My poetic skills aren't all that. I think my ancestors were vogons . . . go see "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (or better yet, read the book) to get the gist of that.

Disclaimer: Not that I really feel that I need this. The site is "Fanfiction" after all, but let's put it this way, I am waiting with eager anticipation for the wrathful ghost of JRR Tolkien to get me in the middle of the night for such atrocities that I have done to his story.

Chapter 3: A Short Rest

The happy, merry party of recently enriched dwarves, hobbit, and wizard started through the trap infested well-hidden trail to Rivendell. Gandalf led and sprung all the traps in hopes of one of the many missiles would cut the extensive oversized number of the party, but luck was not with him that day. All the slings, arrows, poisoned darts, fireballs, and thermal nuclear weapons brilliantly and totally missed all dwarves and the hobbit. The elves, upon seeing this chain of unfortunate events, were heartbroken. They decided to sing to be happy about this situation (which proves that elves will sing about anything!)

"O! What is reeking?

And what is so putrid?

The can must be leaking!

The smell's really fetid!

O! Pu-pu-pu-pu whew!

Here in the valley!

"O, Fred, are you begrimed?

Could it be you that's crusty?

Follow the trail that's slimed

To those that are musty!

O! Krill-krill-krill-krolly

The valley's in folly!

Pu-Whew!

"O! You're the ones molding

On the path decaying!

No knowing, no knowing

How much we're dismaying

Praying and spraying

Down in the valley

In Fumes

Pu-Whew!

"O! Will you be bathing?

Or must we fumigate!

Our valley needs saving

From odors that 'cummulate!

To Fly would be jolly!

To stay would be folly!

Please, listen and Hark,

And leave in the next cart

With your fumes!

Pu-Whew!"

Bilbo was quite touched by their song. He had never got that many compliments even at home. His joy was even greater when the elves proceeded to throw cow chips at him. So, touched was he that he even returned the generous gesture. He hit his target even more precisely than they did theirs. The elves finally threw down their arms and ran in terror.

In the last Homely House, where Elrond paced, the half elf lord promised himself that he would try to be kinder to Gandalf and Company, and maybe they would go away quicker and quieter. Then, just perhaps and with much luck, he wouldn't have to fumigate the place again (And see his therapist afterwards).

As the dwarves, wizard, and hobbit entered the house, Elrond gagged and gasped for air. He promptly insisted on them all taking immediate baths. They promptly insisted otherwise (especially a certain hobbit, who was quite proud of his newly acquired grime). Elrond made a bit of a more firm insistence with 45 armed elves at point blank range. (They may be a bit more effective than the traps set.)

After an hour of bloodcurdling scream and shrieks and the vilest language used in name calling and other interesting activities for the elves to participate in (that Elrond had to whip out many and various dictionaries to find the meanings to) and in the greatest utmost terror of the wizard, dwarves, and especially the hobbit (footnote: hobbits bite), the lord of Rivendell was presented with a tolerable smelling group, that had cost many an elf their lives. The visitors sat down at his table and feasted and feasted and feasted (more free meals). Even though Elrond hopes were high that they would leave quicker, they stayed for two weeks. Bilbo was almost lost twice, because he spent most of his time in the elvish garbage dumpster, and the garbage pick up was on Wednesdays.

At last, Gandalf decided enough was enough. Some of this decision came about, because the elves only smiled when he or his cohorts did something truly disgusting. Not to mention, he had a tight schedule to fit the dwarves and the hobbit into. So, they had a big meeting with Elrond. Given that the uninvited guests were not too fond of bathing often and the half elf lord had no more elves to spare, he, like many of his subjects took to wearing nose plugs and gas masks. He looked over the swords presented to him that the wizard and dwarf had so graciously appropriated from the trolls. (He graciously declined to look over the centerfold that Bombur had acquired from the same place.)

"These swords were filched from my forefathers, so they should really remain here," he announced.

Gandalf gave him a sidelong glance, which said something to effects of: "We will be more than willing to stay from this midsummer to midwinter!" Elrond swallowed hard, and being the wise person that he was continued, "But you need them more than I do right now. These swords were made to knock down the goblin population and were created by Terminix just for that problem. Gandalf, your sword is 'Glamdring' the Foe Hammer. Thorin, your sword is 'Orcrist', the Goblin Cleaver. They obviously no longer work, since they haven't taken either one of you out."

"You know, that Spring celebration your people have every April sounds like a fun time for us to attend. I hear there is a lot of food there," Gandalf commented, and the bunch of freeloaders drooled in anticipation.

"May these swords serve you well," Elrond added hurriedly.

"But, unfortunately, there are other celebrations for us to attend," concluded the wizard solemnly.

There was a round of sighs of disappointment from the group of little people. Thorin stood up and held up his arms to silence them. "There is always the return journey," he reminded them, then he turned back to the pale half elven lord. "And what can you tell me of the map?"

The princely dwarf handed over a rather wet and musty and a bit more than a little slimy old map. Elrond held it at the tips of his fingers. With a look of disgust, he opened the map and looked it over. He stared at a certain group of letters in the far bottom corner. Being a master of letters, unlike most characters in this story, he was intrigued and it bypassed his disgust. "This is strange indeed. I haven't seen these letters in years. The message is even stranger. It reads 'Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.'"

Thorin and Gandalf stared at each other strangely a moment. Everyone else continued eating. Then the two leaders looked at Elrond. The lord of Rivendell looked affronted and quickly defended, "I didn't write it, I only translate it."

The wizard and the dwarf looked at the map in Elrond's hand. "Where does it say that?" asked Thorin.

"Right here," answered Elrond, pointing to the group of brown sloppy markings.

"Those aren't letters!" exclaimed the dwarf, "That's part of my lunch!"

"Oh," replied Elrond, as he looked again at the map. He held it back a bit again and found the right group of letters. "There are loon letters here, and they can only be read when the right looneys are in the same room on the right day. They read, 'With the light of the setting sun, when the thrush knocks on your head, you will find the keyhole.'"


	4. Chapter 4: Over the Hill and under the H...

A/N: Here it is Chapter 4 in all its glory. Looking over the goblin's song, I now realize why I didn't like it before. So, I just out and out created a new one. Goblins are not poetic creatures! Keep this in mind. Of course, there has been additions made to this chapter. So, I was in a naughty state of mind, and if I could write poetry, you would know the dirty limmerick that Bombur wrote about Bertha.

My thanks to my wonderful readers. I love you! My thanks to The Lady of the Light and Icy Sapphire. And Jareth the Monk, you know you had better!

Discalaimer: Tolkien's ghost is screaming in agony for the poetic misjustice I just dealt him!

Chapter 4: Over the Hill and Under the Hill

Upon Midsummer's Day, the elves gave Gandalf and Company a hearty 'goodbye.' They gave the dwarves plenty of free meals under the condition that they leave and never return. So, Gandalf, Bilbo and the dwarves headed off to the lovely Misty Mountains. The dwarves and hobbit enjoyed this part of the journey so much that they added many and various colorings to the trail to express their full hearted (or should I say their full stomached) opinion. Bombur happily contented himself with spray painting all his wonderful poetry about Bertha (and including his phone number with it) all along the mountain side. The others ignored him in hopes of keeping that full stomach.

When they reached one of the passes at the greatest heights of the mountains, a tremendous storm struck. The stone giants decided that this was a good time to play a game of baseball, and they played soooooooo well! The pitcher threw the ball a thousand feet away from the batter, who swung at all the same. The ball may have missed the batting box, but it nearly hit several of the dwarves. When by some strange twist of events the batter hit the ball, the fielders kept dropping the ball or running headlong into each other. (So much like the home team.) Thorin, in disgust with this disgrace to the game (and mainly because he was losing his bet with Fili and Kili), he sent the two younger dwarves to find shelter for them.

The party sheltered in a damp cave with dripping water that played out danceable tunes, where Oin and Gloin did a promenade to. They wanted to build a fire, but Gandalf claimed to be allergic to such comforts. So, they decided pull out their imported special pipe weed, that had been specifically shipped from some strange unknown place called Colombia. Bilbo recognized it as that expensive stuff that he saw in Belly Bellbottoms' shop, but he never bought it because it was too pricey for his tight wallet. The dwarves and wizard made all those interesting smelling smoke rings, that the hobbit had fallen in love with at first sniff. He went into a deep joyous sleep, where he dreamed that he was falling through the floor.

He woke to the sonorous snores of the dwarves and rubbed his head. "That's the last time I am going to smoke that stuff, much less eat it."

At that moment, Gandalf awoke. The goblins nearest to him that appeared in the illuminating lightning that he produced, were reduced to dust in the wind. (He was aiming at the hobbit for waking him up, but he missed.) The goblins shrugged and grabbed the dwarves and the dazed babbling hobbit, who needed a bed to crawl under for another nervous breakdown. With wicked gleams of mischief, the goblins snapped their whip and rattled their chains, and soon the party found them the center of the evening's entertainment. In the process of dragging these guests down to their pleasant little hole in the ground, they sang a nice little tune quite off key and totally unsynchronized with each other on a couple of other different songs, but one song prevailed through the slosh of words. (And the little people could have done without this poetic artistry, too!)

"O! We've caught ourselves some scum dwarves

Along with something utterly smelly and quite furry.

So what! Why should we really seriously care?

As long as these slimy critters cook up well!

And if things go well, you'll have a front row seat

At our roasting season.

Yum! Yum!

"Work all day, kick ass all night

Can make life really shitty,

But finding on your doorstep

Thirteen plump juicy dwarves,

Along with something that

Wins out on the smelly and furry,

Has a way of making us feel

High on the belly.

Yum! Yum!

"Now, our cook has lost all his cares,

And breakfast turned up quite inedible,

But we plan to fix him up right and well

Guess what, my dearest little dwarves,

He'll be joining you and that furry thing

In our special little roasting session!

Yum! Yum!"

As they sang their song that Bilbo thought was quite a catchy tune and the dwarves moaned, they entered a great chamber, where there was a great bonfire, burning things that no one really wanted to talk about at the moment, a vast throne with the goblin king (with his nose buried in his lovely magazine "Impious Imps"), and a prisoner of their own kind all chained up from head to foot.

"That was the dumbest, worst song that I have ever heard you guys sing!" the goblin prisoner complained.

"What do you know about singing and fine poetic skills! You can't even cook a meal that a goblin can digest!" answered the captain of the captors, who just happened to write the prominent tune.

"I know more about cooking than you do about singing," replied the prisoner.

One of the guard nudged the deeply engrossed in his reading material (Well, the pictures) Great Goblin to get his attention on the court at hand, but the goblin just gave a lecherous laugh and turned the page with strange unintelligible mutterings. The guard took the magazine away and if looks could kill, the goblin would be the next meal for this ravenous band. The guard passed the magazine to his underling, who immediately began to enjoy the fine art therein. The Great Goblin huffed and turned his attention to the court, since his fun had ended and he had nothing better to do. He narrowed his amber eyes at the two squabbling goblins and yelled, "Enough of this. Your arguing gives me a headache, and you wouldn't like me in a bad mood. What have you brought me today, Captain?"

"Thirteen dwarves and very high bunny rabbit," the captain answered proudly.

"That's nice. Well, it is a better catch than that basilisk you caught last week. You stoned two of my best citizens. Ah, my poor Helga and her voluptuous sister Delga, life won't have the same flare as it once did," the goblin king mused pleasantly. With a sigh of regret, he returned his attentions back to the captain. "So, what do you suggest that we do with 13 dwarves and a high bunny rabbit?"

"That's for you to decide, my lord," the captain replied.

"You didn't capture any girls! What good are they!" Complained the Great Goblin.

"Well, sir, if I may be so bold as suggest," started the captain, "We could make a good stew out of them. Haven't had rabbit in ages!"

"Ooo! Gross!" complained the ex-cook.

"What do you know of it? Your idea of a good meal is cereal and burnt toast!" the goblin captain pointed out.

"I never volunteered to be the cook! Just because my father did so well in appeasing your sick little taste buds, doesn't mean that I will. Besides, I know better than cook dwarves. They are all old and tough, and hobbit is poisonous!"

"Shut up, all of you!" Yelled one of the Great Goblin's guards.

"Thank you," the goblin king answered, as he popped two aspirins, "So, what did these fourteen interesting, but appetizing little morsels, do?"

"Trespassing on our front porch," answered the captain.

"All right, but that doesn't really seem like enough to want to have them over for dinner. By the way, what is my cook doing here? Who's doing the cooking with him in chains?" asked the Great Goblin.

"He can't cook!" cried out several goblins at once.

"And I caught him with my sister!" one goblin in the back complained. The prisoner goblin's face darkened as the blood rushed to his cheeks.

"That's a good enough reason to put him in the pot!" Agreed the king.

"Dear, sir," started Thorin, as he dug out his literary shovel (which was bigger than most), "We did not mean to trespass on your land. Believe me, if we knew your people were hanging about here, we wouldn't have come within 10 miles of this place."

"He's a fibber! Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!" exclaimed the captain, "He carries the sword Orcrist!"

"What's that? I'm a food connoisseur, not a historian!" the Great Goblin pointed out.

"It's the Goblin Cleaver," replied the captain.

"So, they're thieves?" inquired the Great Goblin, "They've been stealing from the royal kitchen. No wonder my cook can't make a descent meal! This is a serious offence indeed!"

"Uh, sir," answered the cook, "Orcrist is not that kind of goblin cleaver. It's a sword used to do rather nasty things to goblins."

"Why would anyone want to do anything nasty to us?" queried the Great Goblin in amazement.

"Well," answered the prisoner cook goblin, "My great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather beat out the best elven cook in a cook off, and that rather pissed off the elves. So, they created these swords to knock us off as revenge."

"Oh!" answered the Goblin King slowly.

"So, my lord," remarked the captain, "Shall we cook up the cook with the dwarves and the bunny rabbit?"

"Ooo! I am a rotten cook, but you're talking about cannibalism! How sick can you get!" cried out the cook.

"Shut up!" Yelled one of the Great Goblin's guard.

"Oh, why not! It's got to be better than what we had for breakfast!" answered the Great Goblin.

At that moment a flash of lightning in the shape of a giant 'G' flashed across the cavern. Glamdring flashed, and the Great Goblin dropped dead. Gandalf would have been distressed to know this, but the cause of death was more due to food poisoning than it did with Glamdring, especially since the bolt completely missed him and incinerated the royal library. The dwarves and the hobbit (dragging the cook along with them) ran for it.

When they got a fair distance away, Gandalf cut the chains, (due to the fact that the clanging and clattering that was echoing loudly in the caves was getting on his nerves) until he came to the goblin cook. The goblin grinned and waved innocently at him. "Hi, there," he said and promptly wet his pants.

Gandalf shrugged a 'what the hell,' and cut him loose. He was a prisoner with the dwarves and the hobbit, and the wizard was sure that the goblin would meet a most gruesome fate at the hands of his own people. Not to mention, Gandalf was not really in the mood for goblin meat at this time. The goblin gave an elaborate bow of a thank you and scurried off in the opposite direction.

After several attacks ( about 187) by the goblins, the goblins got the idea that if they sneaked up quietly on the dwarves (instead of stalking them and singing several different songs off key all at once), they may be more successful in recapturing their dinner. So, in their third attack, they managed to grab the dwarf Dori ,who was graciously volunteered after he drew the shortest straw to carry the clumsy and a bit intoxicated hobbit (that's another long story). Dori dropped Bilbo on his head (Nothing important was hurt), and the hobbit bounced on down into the chasm. Now Gandalf was really ticked off!


	5. Chapter 5: Riddles in the Dark

A/N: Well, I don't know what happened to Bilbo in the beginning of this chapter, but he got over it. Oh well, poor Gollum!

Thanks again to my loyal follower, The Lady of the Light.! And trust me, Mirkwood is coming. I don't remember what I did to the poor spiders, but I know the Wood elves got theirs!

This story was never meant to be told this way, and Tolkien is up in Heaven counting the days when he can get even with me for this atrocity I did him!

Chapter 5: Riddles in the Dark

When Bilbo opened his eyes, he couldn't see anything. He thought, "Oh my, I am goned blind!" He moved to his feet and his dagger fell out, with other things that he shouldn't be in possession of. The dagger glowed dimly. In its dim light, he checked to see if eveything was present and accounted for. "Aw, shucks! I landed all in one piece and ain't goned blind after all!" (The bump on the head might have done something to that empty space between the ears.) He wondered the cave until he found a detached finger with a ring on it. He picked it up and tried to remove the ring (and got fingered in the process). The hobbit thought that the finger would make a nice addition to his garbage garden back home. If you plat it, it may grow into a whole big hand coming out of the ground. Wouldn't his neighbors be so jealous! After a couple of unsuccessful tries at removing the ring, he shrugged and stuck the whole thing in his pocket.

Bilbo continue in his walk (in search of food), until he reached a pond. Now, in this pond lived a creature that rivaled BIlbo in sliminess, who was named fondly Gollum. Now, Gollum was one of those fellows that would eat anything or anyone anytime anywhere. (Sounded very much like hobbits!) He liked to talk to himself, and he would have very long and drawn out complicated arguments with himself (which he usually lost). He looked remarkably like a frog and acted like one, too, right down to the fly catching techniques.

"Ribid! Ribid! Mes ssmells ssomethings thats woulds makes mes haves a fulls tummys. Let'ss goess ands gets its! Ribid! Ribid!"

After a lot of hissing, spitting, interesting language muttering, and ribidings, he won the argument with himself for a change, and he went in search of some delicacies of a hobbit variety.

Bilbo heard this horrible noise, and instead of being scared witless (like anyone with any sense), he said, "Oh my, I think I am going to be eaten. Hmmm, sounds interesting being torn into a thousand little pieces!" So, he jumped up and down waving his arms and yelling "Here I am! Come and get me!"

Gollum jumped into his lake with form and did the backstroke in a Olympic gold metal style. The hobbit was still jumping up and down trying to get his attention (Including a big neon sign that read 'Come and Get It!'), but when Gollum got closer and got a good whiff of Bilbo, he gagged and lost his perfect swimming form. This was not the smell he was following. Once he got to shore, he turned and deposited his previous meal in the lake. Bilbo jumped the creature and begged it to be eaten. Gollum struggled to break himself free of the grimy hobbit and recomposed himself.

"Whys takes mes tos kills yous. Ribid! The goblinses woulds likes to kills ands eats yous! Ridid! Ribid!" He told him.

"Ah, but I'm here and you're here. Aren't you hungry? I'm nice and plump!" answered Bilbo, as he waggled his behind.

Gollum sniffed at him and gagged. "Yucks!" he replied, "No's. Mes ain't thats hungry yets. Ribid! Ribid!"

"Oh, come on. You've got me all to yourself! You don't really want the goblins to get me first. I'm such a prize," he answered blinking and acting like a shy maiden, "And you might lose me in the fight."

"Ahs, but these goblinses are ssso goods ats a sssslice and dicssse! Ribid! Ribid!"

"But I bet you are a good one at the ole slicing and dicing bit with the dunking bit in the lake and all. And I am certain you know all kinds of good tortures to go along with it."

"Buts thesse goblinses knows all kindss ofs tortures. Ribid! Mes don'ts haves the rights kinds of tools fors thes appropriates tortures, ands theys dos. Ribid! Ribid!"

"Oh, you wouldn't want to miss out on such torturing of a helpless creature alone in the dark dank caves, and, after all, you don't know what the right seasoning and spices can do to the right person!"

The creature grumbled something to his other self about this smelly thing was taking the fun out of the chase and the pain and torture. Suddenly a bright light bulb lit up over his head, and he cursed the light. "Mes gots ans ideas. Wes haves a riddles games. If mes wins, then mes eats yous. Ribid! Ifs yous wins, mes shows yous goods ways tos gets yous losts and gets eatens by somethings nastys. Ribid! Ribid!"

"Oh, sounds good enough. Why Not!"

"Me asks thes first riddles. Ribid! Its bes verys hards! Ribid! Heres its issss. Ssso, thinks reallys hards. Whats ares yous? Ribid! Ribid!"

"A hobbit. What are you?"

"Oh mys! Mes forgots!"

"I win! I win!" Bilbo exclaimed jumping up and down.

"Oh darns! Mes losts! Ribid! Ribid!" complained Gollum in an unsuccessful attempt to sound downhearted.

"Well now, show me a good way to get lost. Hey, wait a minute! I want you to eat me!"

"Thes deals was yous wins, you goes!"

"All right! All right!"

"Mes gots tos goess homes and gets sssomethings. Mes sshalls returnsss! Ribid! Ribid!"

Well, Gollum did another beautiful nose dive into the lake. He swam swiftly back home to get a clothespin. The faster he got the smelly hobbit out, the faster he could redeodorize the place. Bilbo, on the other hand, waited and waited and waited and waited. He got bored after a while and started to play with the junk in his pockets: an over used and spotty handkerchief (that he promptly ate), a peanut butter and bologna sandwich (that he promptly ate), a melted green fuzzy candybar (that he promptly ate it), the goblin cook's house keys (that he promptly ate, too), Fred's wallet (that he counted the money in, then ate that too), a napkin holder from Elrond's table (that he promptly ate with a good size belch), a couple of worms named Moe and Joe, and they were doing naughty things (he ate them, too), a pair of dirty sneakers (he ate them) and a finger with a ring on it. He paused before eating it. He yanked at the ring. ( He really didn't like mixing his foods.) This time the ring came off. Putting the ring on his finger, he disappeared. He then flipped the finger in his mouth and swallowed it down, too.

Meanwhile, Gollum went in search of a clothespin. He searched and searched and searched. He found that the niftyrama ring, that he found in the Cracker Jacks box that one of his previous meals had, was now missing. Gollum was a bit peeved about this. He looked up at his full sized centerfold poster of that amazing troll woman Bertha, who got around and pouted. He had meant that ring for her. So, he scooted across the pond (Of course, remembering his clothespin) and saw no hobbit.

"Thes disgustings littles thingiemagiggys haves mys rings! Ribid! Ribid! Mes musts finds thiss heisters! Ribid! Ribid!"

Gollum ran off showing the undiscovered Bilbo the way out, Gollum couldn't smell him, because of the clothespin on his nose. Following along silently until Gollum stopped, Bilbo tripped over him and cracked his head on a rock. When he woke (after only a few short minutes), he was back to his abnormal self again. Looking at the prone Gollum parked in the middle of the road, Bilbo did not recognize this strange creature with the clothespin on its nose and vividly arguing with itself over whether or not to risk the removing of the clothespin to find his victim(and losing the argument). So, Bilbo did what his hobbit instinct told him to do. He gave Gollum a solid kick in the boot. Gollum jumped twenty feet in the air with a soprano screech and clutching tender parts of the anatomy. Oh well, he wouldn't have to be worrying about Bertha for a while.

Bilbo strutted by the hapless agonizing creature, who would not be in any kind of condition to follow the hobbit for quite some time. Bilbo wandered the path for a short while until he stumbled upon some goblins, who were guarding the doorway to the outside. He walked in the middle of the group, slipped off the ring, then cried, "Nah, nah-a-nah-nah!" and mooned them.

The goblins jumped at him, but he disappeared along with their lunches. (No big loss on lunch. It was soggy cereal with burnt toast again). They looked and looked and looked, but they found neither lunch nor hobbit, even though there was a distinctive trail of odor of slime mixed with soggy cereal to lead them to the missing perpetrator.


	6. Chapter 6: Out of the Frying Pan into th...

A/N: Again thanks to my loyal readers. I am glad that you are getting a kick out of this. This chapter contains the last song for awhile. I don't know if I will try to tackel the elven song later on or not, but that's chapter 9. An amusing little bit for you. While I was typing this out and had the Media Player going, the song "Forever Autumn" played as I typed the song. Quite ironic, given how bad my poetry is and some of the music on the my Media Player.

And a disclaimer for you all. If you think that I am JRR Tolkien, you are sadly mistaken!

Chapter 6: Out of the Frying Pan into the Fire

Bilbo, after escaping the caves and swallowing the last of his soggy cereal, decided that it was time that he found the dwarves. (Not only were they really good at finding free meals, but Oin owed him $50.00). So, he put his nose to the ground and went sniffing out his companions. (Not that it was necessary to put one's nose to the ground, because nothing quite smelled as bad as the dwarves. It was just a good excuse for him to waddle about in the mud some more.)

Now, in a clearing not far from the mountains, the dwarves and Gandalf were having a soothing little disagreement, that bordered closely to being a gentle little bloody argument about Bilbo's well being and what should be done about it.

"Hurray, my fellow dwarves! This indeed is an evening that calls for celebration! We have beaten Gandalf at his own little twisted games. We have lost that malodorous little hobbit!" exclaimed Thorin, who was a bit more than a little malodorous himself.

"I would not cheer so loudly and heartedly if I were you, you repulsive little flea ridden vile cretin of the most loathsome putrefied swamp muck! I am not a wizard given to a good sense of humor or fair play," answered Gandalf with a glint in his eye.

"You're just peeved because we lost the hobbit fair and square! It wasn't a dwarf that tripped up Dori. You owe me. So, pay up!" replied Thorin.

"I don't care who dropped the hobbits! We are going back to those caves and find the obnoxious little pest! It took me long enough to procure such a proper specimen as him!" Gandalf pointed out pointedly.

"Oh no we are not!" insisted Thorin.

"Oh yes you are!"

"Oh no we're not!"

"Yes, we are," insisted Gandalf, as he casually set Thorin's pants on fire.

Thorin let out a bloodcurdling scream and used many and various and sundry vocabulary words that any respectable dwarf should never know that he most likely learned off of a certain hobbit to express his opinion of this situation. Then Thorin used a few more words in his phraseology to give new and unique names to his dwarven citizens, who were enthraled by the actions occurring and standing about with all jaws agape. Thorin made a few colorful comments about his stupid underlings putting out the fire. The dwarves looked at each other, then they threw a couple of gallons of water (which came out of places unknown) at the designated area.

"Now that that is settled, go and search for the hobbit," answered Gandalf.

As the wizard turned his, a rather wet raspberry was heard. He spun around ready to disintegrate the ingrate dwarf, but Bilbo just stood there and asked quite bluntly and plainly, "Where's lunch?"

Gandalf smiled cooly. He knew how well the dwarves enjoyed the hobbit's company, not to mention how much the other races that they encountered enjoyed the hobbit's company and smell, and who knows, maybe someone (or something) somewhere may get the delicacy of hobbit over easy and die of food poisoning.

So, now that they were all back together, they went on their merry way eastward. Not long into their walk, it became a run. They ended up in wolf country, and the wolves were not at all interested in the lovely centerfold of Bertha that Bombur still carried and was willing to share with the world. Actually, the wolves would not even have taken notice of them at all and left them alone, but a certain furry smelly companion was making interesting faces at them. Then he made a few crude obscene gestures to them. To top off his act, he did what hobbits were most noted for. He threw garbage at them. Not to mention, Gandalf whipped out a cute little spells that made all the fleas migrate (mostly from present company) to the wolves and have a nice little feast on wolf blood.

So, Gandalf, dwarves, and hobbit got chased. They decided to climb up some fir trees. (This was Bilbo's choice of trees, because he liked what the pine cones reminded him of, and he could add one of them to his garbage collection and fool friends and neighbors into believing it to be something smelly.) The dwarves and Gandalf had no problem with the climbing of trees, but the hobbit did. He was a burrower and a garbage thrower, not a tree climber! Dori thought for several minutes and drew the short straw again. So, he decided not to allow the wolves to eat hobbit. Most of this daring act of heroism was spurred on by the gentle persuasion of Gandalf's words of 'Rescue him or the wolves will have dwarf well done.' So, the dwarf yanked the whining hobbit up into the tree.

While stuck up in the tree and being quite bored with watching Gandalf pull nasty tricks on the wolves to anger them more, Dori, Ori, and Nori decided to take the hobbit by his ankles and dip him down to the wolves to tempt them on and find out how high the wolves could jump. Each dip brought on the most interesting words from the hobbit's mouth (which really fascinated the dwarves and wolves alike). Bilbo did wish for some privacy, so that he could go participate in one of his favorite little hobbies and have a nice little nervous breakdown.

In the midst of all this fun and entertainment, the goblins showed up. They had their scheduled grill out, which they had been planning all week. They were a bit peeved that the wolves had started without them. Of course, then again, the wolves didn't know how to fire up the grill yet, no matter how many times they had been shown. Once they got closer, they were even more peeved. Not only had they not fired up the grill, but they had caught the lunch already. Dang it, catching the meal was half the fun.

The leader of the wolves went up to the leading goblin. "You're late. So, we started without you," the leader wolf answered as he kicked several fleas in the goblins' general direction.

Kicking the fleas back at the wolves, the goblin answered. "If your king just bit the big one, you would be a bit late, too. Not to mention, if you had been living on soggy cereal for the past week, you would be a bit peeved about the meat, too."

The goblin cook that was the captive earlier, was with them and mimicked the goblin leader. He crossed his arms and complained, "A nice vegetarian diet is healthier for you anyway. All these cooked meat foods are just going to slow you down."

"Shut up! That is just an excuse for your lack of skills!" exclaimed the goblins and the wolves together, and the wolves added a mournful painful howl to exclamate the point.

The cook only shrugged. After a bit of growling and sharing of mutual fleas, the wolves showed the goblins their prize. All the goblins (except the cook) cheered. It was the bunch that they lost (and especially that particularly smelly furry creature was still among them.) If they had completely lost them, they would miss out on that special opportunity of new species taste testing. They began to sing off key, not all together, and on completely different songs simultaneously (of course).

"Now you all have sought to escape our grill out!

Now, my dear little fellows, we really do care!

After all, how does it taste, something so smelly and furry?

We all quite agree, that it was quite pure rude and quite shitty,

That you knocked off our king and escaped, dwarves.

So, we are going to make sure we fix you up good and well!

"We really wouldn't want you to fall down a well!

That would blow our whole party of a grill out!

Now, you can really understand that, can't you, dwarves?

After all, we have put in a lot of work and care

For this very special party, so don't make it shitty

By running away with that something smelly and furry!

"As you've guessed, we've never seen (or smelt) something so smelly or furry.

And we're more than a little interested, curious and well . . .

We've never smelt anything well . . . quite that shitty!

Who knows what may happen after this grand grill out!

It may taste quite tasty with little cooking care

And we do know we like quite well barbequed dwarves!

"We all want the one smelly and furry in out grand ole's cook out!

I'll take mine done well, so, you had better take care

Not to make it shitty, heed me well, dwarves!"

"You all are quite gross and off key! Not to mention, that song isn't much better than the last one you guys sang. No, it's worse! I didn't believe it was possible, but you have achieved the impossible! That song is the absolute dumbest song I have had the misfortune of hearing. I'm certain that I think it can't get any worse, you would be sure to prove me wrong and come up with a dumber song!" lectured the cook.

"Who cares!" answered the leader, as he went to light a tree along with four other goblins at the other four occupied trees.

"But, you can't! They spared my life! They . . ." protested the cook, but he was graciously conked on the head and took a nap.

"All the more reason they deserve this! One bad turn deserves another!" exclaimed the leader.

The goblins set the trees aflame. So, Gandalf gave thought to making a flying leap. He figured he could cause more blood spill that way. So what if he died. He could always reincarnate himself. So, as he jumped, the Lord of the Eagles grabbed him and carried him off. The Lord of the Eagles had been watching them for some time now, due to the fact that his favorite soap opera had been cancelled. Several other eagles picked up the rest of the dwarves. Bilbo grabbed a hold of Dori's leg. The thought of falling headlong into the valley below thrilled him, but his cuff links (previously belonging to Bifur) caught hold of Dori's boot. The boy still hadn't completely recovered from the bump on the head.

They landed at the eagles' nest. Gandalf conversed with the Lord of the Eagles.

"What's happening, you lice bitten feather brain?" Asked Gandalf in his usual courtesy.

"Oh, nothing much, ole dead skunk glands!"

"How close to Mirkwood can you take us, you vermin sucking lizard tongue?"

"To Carrock, carrion breath."

So, it came to pass that night upon which they feasted on rabbit, watched the evening soaps, and slept there till morning. (Did you get that out of the conversation?)


	7. Chapter 7: Queer Lodging

A/N; Thanks to my reviewers as always! I have just finished reading a very long piece on Fictionpress, and I will pick up a coupleof your stories this week.

Not much to say here, but I always did really hate Beorn. Oh well, I'm kind of getting even with him.

Disclaimer: I am watching out for the hatchet that is coming from the Tolkien Estate!

Chapter 7: Queer Lodging

The next morning the party woke and had their morning smokes and free meal. Again Bilbo got thrown into that dream where he was drowning in the Black Sea. The dwarves were just happy. Free meals and interesting special import tobacco tended to do that. For Gandalf, on the other hand, it took a little more to bring the wizard absolute joy, but there was nothing there was nothing there for his zapping pleasure. The dwarves and hobbit were otherwise occupied to care if he zapped them or not. So, the Lord of the Eagles took him out on the hunt so that he might enjoy himself in zapping up some breakfast. All the appropriate bloodshed did much to relieve the wizard's need. After breakfast and the morning talk shows, the eagles took Gandalf, the dwarves and the hobbit to Carrock, where they were to meet one of Gandalf's good buddies.

Gandalf wanted the dwarves to make a slow invasion, so that his buddy could come up with a most inventive way of cooking thirteen dwarves. Gandalf went first with Bilbo, who he tied a convenient noose around his neck. The wizard dragged the hobbit through the mud and soil, which totally delighted the disgusting little creature to no end until he hit a rock or root and got stuck. The wizard stopped when he encountered an eight-foot tall man. Beorn, Gandalf's good buddy, swung a rather sizeable ax at him. Friendly greetings. Gandalf set Beorn's underwear on fire. Friendly greetings back.

"Good day, Beorn. I am here on the behalf of some friends of mine that I had hoped would have perished before we reached your humble abode, but there is always Mirkwood. So, in hopes of them finding a more slow and appropriate end, we came to ask your help to get them into Mirkwood."

"Maybe I will assist you, but convince me of your intentions toward these fellows are truly of a most hideous nature," the big man replied in a high pitched squeaky feminine voice.

"Let me tell you a tale of so many unsuccessful killings, resulting in other successful and gorified deaths."

"Do tell!" he squealed.

As Gandalf told a tale with such exaggerated gore, which would make the most bloodthirsty ogre sick and swear off of meat, the dwarves skipped around Beorn whistling "Heigh Ho!" They promenaded through the disgusting graphic tale, and when the tale was done, they all plopped down on the ground.

"An absolute sanguinary tale! The best I've heard in a long time. I've become excessively hungry! Let's eat!" Beorn suggested, not even caring that he had thirteen more gusts and Bombur had yet again shared his centerfold of Bertha with him. The big man smiled and shared his centerfold of the self same troll in another provocative position. The fat dwarf was delighted.

"Let's eat!" exclaimed Bilbo, who never missed a meal.

They all entered Beorn's house (the hobbit first of all, of course). They all took their seats around a hand carved ivory table. Beorn handed them each a menu that read on the outside "Le Albator- where you literally pay an arm and a leg for dinner!" Opening the menu, it read:

Roast Dwarf...one ear, three toes

Roast Hobbit...one arm, two legs

Roast Troll...two arms, two legs, one nose

Roast Goblin...one hand

Roast Wizard...fourteen lives

Poached Wolf...two fingers

Poached Goblin...one hand

Poached Dwarf...one half of a leg

Poached Hobbit...one arm, one leg

Tossed Goblin Salad...one ear

Tossed Dwarf Salad...two ears, one nose

French Fried Wizard Toes...twenty-one lives

French Fried Goblin Feet...one eye, one ear, eight toes

French Fried Fricasseed Goblin Toes...one eye, one ear

French Fried Fricasseed Wolf Tails...one ear

Charbroiled Goblin Burger...one leg

Chabroiled Wolf Burger...one leg

Boiled Goblin Brain...five heads, two legs

(only if in season)

Les Boissons

Wizard's Blood...fourteen lives

Goblins's Blood...two ears

Troll's Blood...two ears, one hand

Hobbit's Blood...one eye, two legs, two arms

All meals are nonnegotiable

Lives must be taken in the restaurant

No Credit Card Accepted

Meals must be paid in full upon receiving

Bon Apetit!

Beorn smiled. "Since your host told such a delightful blood-filled story, all your meals are on the house," the big man announced, who was still caught up in the overflowing joy of the pain suffering and splatter of Gandalf's tale, and he hoped that such a tale was true. His restaurant needed new supplies and he could get some free picking from the gory mess that the party left behind.

So, the dwarves and the hobbit pigged out so much that Beorn wished he had never offered the free meals. He did not know to what extent a hobbit could eat, and especially this particular hobbit.

Beorn left the house at nightfall to do his midnight prowling. How do you think he kept the restaurant so well supplied other than the normal payments that he received? He found the pickings good and easy. Gandalf had stirred up the goblin quite well. He found part of Gandalf's messy tale was almost true. He returned home in the best of moods. He was so cheerful in fact that he added a new item to his menu called "Mixed Goblin and Wolf Giblets" that he promptly tried out on the dwarves, hobbit, and wizard. They got all that they could eat, and then there was some to spare. He also gave the party plenty of supplies for their journey through Mirkwood.

The company left that day at Gandalf's insistence. The stay had appropriately fattened them up, and it was making tempting pickings for Beorn, but Gandalf wanted them for his own pot. The wizard won the game of rock, paper, scissors. So, Gandalf paused the party at the entrance of Mirkwood. He waved a hearty 'Bye Now!' to them.

"I regret to inform you that I will not be going with you into that lovely woods. It does my heart wrong to know that I cannot degut you in the forest and leave you for the worms and my special friends. Kind of think of it, they would eat you without degutment (and would prefer it that you had all your guts), but I do so enjoy a good degutting!"

"Pleasant! It is good not to have you along anymore. Now we may have a fighting chance," remarked Bombur, who was the fattest among the dwarves, and Gandalf's mouth had been watering for a well-roasted dwarf for quite some time. Bombur had to squirm enough to get away from Beorn, and Gandalf would hate to lose such a healthy prize to anyone or anything else, but the stress of the forest would tenderize the meat all the better. It made him kind of sad to think that he might lose Bombur to the creatures of the forest, but one must do what one must do.

"Oh, never fret, my dear fat Bombur. I'll be back for you and that overly plump hobbit. I'll be back before you know it! I do hope my dear friend has his good old fashion cook book on cooking dwarves!" answered Gandalf, as he popped out. The dwarves immediately had a party.


	8. Chapter 8: Flies and Spiders

A/N: Here it is! Chapter 8 up and running! Yay! This is a little dated, but I couldn't figure out any artist out there in the modern day that compares to Boy George. Oh well, take it for what it is. Anyway, thanks again to The Lady of Light and everyone else out here reading this. I am having some fun with it!

Disclaimer: Tolkien might want to know who Boy George is, too, and what does he have to do with this story!

Chapter 8: Flies and Spiders

The dwarves entered the forest happier than any of the adventures they had had so far. Just knowing that Gandalf was not coming was enough to make this dismal oppressing forest seemed like a trip to the grocery store, which had locked its doors with the dwarves and hobbit left inside for the night. They skipped along the path and sang "Whistle While You Work." Of course, none of these dwarves had any experience in this field. For some obscure little reason, they suddenly realized that Bilbo was not with them. So, Fili and Kili went back, chased him down, hog tied him, and dragged him back into the forest, as they conveniently hit his head on every available rock on the path (and many not on the path). Inside the forest, it was stuffy, smelly, and dark. Bilbo was quite ashamed of himself that he had tried to run out on the dwarves, because this forest reminded him remarkably of home. All it needed was some rotting garbage thrown about.

They soon came upon a river. The dwarves looked at each other. With a mutual silent decision, Fili and Kili went over to Bombur. They hefted him up with all their might and flung him in the river. What creature would not go for such a tasty little morsel such as Bombur? Not to mention, the dwarf did not know how to swim. So, he splashed and spluttered around enough to wake any monster lurking therein and swallowed enough water, so that if it were deadly, he'd be dead by now. Bofur, being rather a generous fellow, grabbed the drowning dwarf's hand and yanked him to shore. Poor Bombur was so out of it that he didn't notice his prized possession of the centerfold of Bertha floated away down the stream.

"The water is enchanted with a sleep spell. So, I'm going to sleep until Christmas and dream of Bertha!" He told them, then he fell over on his face.

The dwarves tied a rope around Bilbo, who didn't get it. Fili and Kili shrugged and threw the hobbit with all their might across the water, but instead of a splash, they heard a clunk, thud, and a string of curse words. So, the dwarves heaved and heaved at the rope. Suddenly, the rope became slack, and a boat and very squished, pulled, and grumpy hobbit came crashing into the two young dwarves. The remaining standing dwarves, except Thorin, who verbally supervised the job, pulled the boat onto the shore. They all piled in. Fili and Kili, carrying Bombur got in. The boat began to sink. So, they tied up Bombur with the other end of the rope that was attached to Bilbo. Fili and Kili swung Bilbo around several times and threw him into the trees across the river. With a vile curse that would curl a troll's hair and the crunch of several leaves and branches, the hobbit was anchored in the tree. The young dwarves tugged on the rope and pulled the boat across, while using Bombur and the rudder.

Once across the river, Thorin yanked Bilbo out of the tree. Cutting the hobbit free, he said, "Since you have proven yourself useful and you're still alive, you may walk freely now."

They traveled for a long time. Bombur never woke up, although they dragged him along on the ground. No one was willing to carry his weight around. Fili and Kili had the habit of slamming him into trees that weren't exactly on the path, then at the end of the day's journey, they would hang him upside down for the night. When they started into a valley, Fili and Kili came up with Bombur sledding down the steep incline. Soon after all the thrill of this exciting new sport was over, the dwarves had a conference and decided that they to send Bilbo up a tree, especially since the fellow did not know how to climb trees. Bilbo approached the problem calmly and struggled up the tree. He was to look around to find out how much forest was left to travel, and depending upon his report they would decide whether or not to cook and eat Bombur. Of course, given all the recent circumstances, and still being in a bit of a shock after seeing the full fold out of Bombur's picture of Bertha floating down the river, he did a most useful thing. He had a long overdue nervous breakdown. The dwarves waited around as their cordial courteous selves.

"There he goes again! Screaming and yelling and crying and carrying on like he's the only one!" remarked Kili.

"I just knew it was coming after the food shortage! He's nothing at all on a full stomach, and now he's even less on an empty one!" commented Oin.

"One thing about hobbits, they have no consideration for their friends!"added Gloin.

Fili took several rocks and threw them up at the whining hobbit. Seeing that this method didn't work, he took a bow and an arrow and shot arrows up at him.

"I just wonder if he's upset about something," said Dori.

"Nah, he's just showing what kind of person he is," replied Nori.

"He's certainly making enough noise about it!" stated Dwalin.

"It would serve him right to right out of that tree!" added Balin.

"Where's your manners!" Ori yelled up at him quite peeved.

"Knock off the racket up there!" ordered Thorin, "And get to work!"

Bombur sat up and called up to him, "Shut up! Some of us are trying to sleep!" He then fell back into that enchanted sleep.

"Yeah, stupid! Shut-up before you wake up some of Gandalf's little friends!" called up Bofur.

"Be quiet and get to your job up there or you won't get any supper!" Bifur called up.

That got him. He got quiet and went the rest of the way up the tree. He popped his filthy head up above the tree's roof. All these actions seemed terribly familiar to him, as were the finds of this venture. This all had to do with the fact that he had already climbed this tree initially, found out the dismal truth, then had his nervous breakdown. His stomach gave him a sound kick for being such an idiot as to get himself in this mess in the first place. Well, Bilbo dug into his dinner of the remaining supplies, and he explained his find between gulping bites. There was no end to the forest.

"We are a bunch of dead ducks!" he cheerfully told them.

Bombur woke up to say "What!" and fell back to sleep.

"We are all going to die!" answered Thorin sophisticatedly.

"I think it sounds fun!" remarked Dori.

Bilbo smiled and went quietly behind a nearby tree and had his second nervous breakdown of the day.

Bofur looked skyward and exclaimed, "Why me, lord! Why, oh why!"

After about an hour or so, Bilbo came out from behind the tree. He was all smiles. That was all right. The dwarves did not take the bearer of bad news well, so they hog tied him and hung him upside down from the tree for the night with Bombur, who muttered sweet nothings about Bertha and breakfast at Tiffany's.

During the night, the dwarves heard singing. So, they decided to follow the voices. "After all, who knows what kind of food the owners of those voices might have!" announced Thorin.

"FOOD!" exclaimed Bombur and Bilbo together, "Where! Where!"

"Not here!" answered Bofur.

"Oh shit!" complained Bombur, "I woke up for nothing!"

They untied Bombur and Bilbo (mostly because Fili and Kili were tired of banging their heads into everything). They followed the voices until they were stopped by a tall wood elf and his spear.

"Do you have a ticket?" he asked.

"No," answered Thorin, "Why? Should I? I am the grandson of the King under the Mountain."

The wood elf made a circular motion with his index finger.

"A ticket to what?" Asked Bofur.

"The Culture Club concert, stupid!" answered the irate elf.

"The what?" asked Bifur.

"The Culture Club! Where have you been! You are way out of it!" complained the elf, "You certainly are not of the Boy George Groupie Association of Mirkwood!"

The dwarves just now noticed for the first time that the elf was wearing a woman's dress, had dreadlocks with tacky beads, and his face was made up with just a tad too much makeup. He had a perfect manicure, showing through his fingerless gloves, but for all practical purposes, he looked like a bag lady.

"Why are you dressed like that? Are you a . . ." started Fili.

The elf took his spear point and turned it to the obnoxious dwarves in a rather threatening way, but the dwarves had disappeared along with his wallet.

Bilbo and the dwarves headed back in the direction of the path, but they couldn't find it, even though Dori, Ori, and Nori looked under every rock. They didn't find the path, but they did find plenty of escargots, that Bilbo promptly scarfed from them. The path had totally disappeared like magic (and that it was). So, realizing that they were totally and utterly and miserably lost, Bilbo calmly crawled under a bush and had his third nervous breakdown of the chapter.

After a while, the dwarves decided that the hobbit had enough time to deal with his problems, and that yanked him out of his hiding. A delirious smile covered his face. They decided to send him back to the elves in the hopes that they would kill him this time. They not so gently informed him of his duty. Still smiling, Bilbo turned back around and headed back to the bush, but Fili and Kili were quick. They picked him up and threw him back in the direction of the elvish party.

Bilbo pulled himself up in front of the scowling elf. "Hello," he said still smiling and with a little wave. "How ya Oin' tonight? I am feeling better now."

"What do you want?" growled the elf.

"Well, for a starter, Why are you dressed like a sissy? And I . . ."

The elf punched the smiling hobbit silly. He never knew the difference. So, the elf gave him a good solid kick that sent him back to his friends. Bilbo got up and brushed himself down. He was not going to be put off by a two bit sissified elf, who wore a dress. So, once out of the dwarves' sigh, he put on his ring and went invisible and tried to sneak into the party. He got poked with a spear. With a few interesting words, that no elf should hear, the hobbit turned visible again.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"You are the only thing that smells that bad," replied the elf, as he gave the furry little hero another send off.

The dwarves and Bilbo were quite dismayed by their failure (especially Bilbo's stomach that the escargot did nothing for). The dwarves were even more dismayed about the hobbit's return in one piece. So, they camped out and smoked the last of their interesting tobacco. Then they all zonked out. Bilbo heard some rustling and slipped the ring on before sleeping.

He woke to find himself all alone. He heard voices screaming in the distance. Smiling, he rolled over until he fell back to sleep. He then heard the urgent and quite ticked off voice that sounded remarkably like his mother (but was in fact was Gandalf) in his head.

"Get up, you lazy rotten slouch! You can't let these overgrown cockroaches eat my experiment specimens! No buts! Get them or I'll sick 'Better Homes and Gardens' on your home while you're out!"

Bilbo jumped right up! He searched for the dwarves. He really wanted to just let them rot, except for the gentle little persuasion of a lightning bolt to his rear end. He went invisible, so that the dwarves would have to go without hope. Suddenly, Bilbo saw a bunch of cockroaches three times his size. Bilbo smiled and did a clever thing. He had another nervous breakdown, which brought several more cockroaches to investigate. Now while Bilbo rolled around and carried on, a can of Black Flag fell out of his pocket. He had conveniently found it in Rivendell's dumpster. When the flying activated can came out of the hobbit's pocket, it made contact with the cockroaches. They did an interesting little dance then flipped over with their legs kicking up in the air. Then they croaked with the proper sound effects. So, when Bilbo finished out his little nervous breakdown, he saw the cockroaches dead with their legs sticking straight up. He shrugged and continued his search for the dwarves.

He continued his search until he found three cockroaches guarding their captives, who were held inside a box with glue inside. The dwarves were stuck in several different positions (and some of them could be rather embarrassing for a bunch of male dwarves). A big flashing neon sign outside of the box announced "Dwarf Motel".

So, Bilbo decided to throw many and various rocks and other sundries, that were obviously left over from recent elven parties, at the overgrown cockroaches. It took him forty-five tries to hit the correct target. The other cockroaches, not noticing the flying rocks, because they were not hitting them at that time, just stood there and made remarks on the weather. So, after a hundred more attempts, Bilbo finally scored on the other two cockroaches.

So, Bilbo not so gently pulled the dwarves free from the trap. They were dizzier than usual from the glue fumes (not to mention the stray rocks that tended to hit them). They were so out of it, that they didn't even notice that Bilbo was invisible, therefore they felt that they were appropriately rescued.

"What happened? I feel like I have just been through a rock storm!" Dori complained.

"That's exactly what happened. It was the weirdest thing," explained Bilbo, "I came in search of you, and suddenly all these rocks came flying!"

"Bull!" stated Bofur.

So, the dwarves and Bilbo ran like hell. They were soon pursued by rabid rampaging raving roaches. The dwarves ran back to where they had last seen the overly strange elves, and Bilbo ran into a tree with a thud. Falling unconscious, he missed the giant cockroaches greatest fear come true. A giant grey booted foot appeared from nowhere and stomped them into the ground.

When Bilbo regained consciousness, he heard screams again. Thinking that there was another party going on (where he may find more food), he followed the screams to find the Boy George Groupie Association of Mirkwood were carting off the dwarves. The hobbit thought for a moment, and the thought of food (and the smell of his burning britches) made him follow the elves.

Now, Thorin was captured by the elves much earlier. He had returned after the last time the hobbit got kicked sky high by the elf. He incited a riot and was arrested. The elven officers (all dressed like bag ladies) brought Thorin before the Elvenking, who was dressed like Queen Victoria.

"Good day, dwarf. Why were you so rude as to incite a riot at our concert? Do you have something against Boy George? You are most uncool! I'm afraid we are going to have to lock you up for a century or two until you become hip!"

"Now listen here, you twerpy sissy, I am Thorin Oakenshield! Grandson of the King under the Mountain!"

All the guard made that bored circular motion with their index fingers.

"Who cares? I wouldn't go around bragging such a thing! I would like to keep it a secret if I were you and keep face!"

Thorin made a rude gesture.

Shock covered the Elvenking's paling face. "For such an insult on my esteemed self you will be forced to watch used car commercials until you repent your deeds!"

Everyone sucked in their breath at awe of such a horrible punishment. The king sat back on his throne in pride. What one must do to protect his swollen ego. One has to be truly brutal at times.

The elves dragged off Thorin, who was screaming and cursing. The Elvenking's eyes grew wide. He put his delicate hand to his forehead and fainted dead away.


	9. Chapter 9: Barrels out of Bond

A/N: I kind of thought that Boy George was a bit out of date for you guys. He was the singer for the band Culture Club in the 80's, and he used to dress up as a woman in ragged clothes, but he did look ver androgenous (can't spell worth squat!). I cannot think of anyone in the modern music scene that is quite like him. Oh well.

Anyway, thanks to my dear reviewers, and JRR Tolkien wants to know what did I do to his poor story!

Chapter 9: Barrels out of Bond

The dwarves were brought to the Wood Elf King, who was in quite a state. His hairdresser fussed over him. Thorin had totally uncurled his hair, and the hairdresser complained terribly about unruly hair and split ends. Needless to say, neither hairdresser nor elven lord had had a good day.

"Why are you dwarves trying to ruin our party? Your leader had to go off and start a riot! We may never see Boy George again! And it's all your faults!" complained the Elvenking. After a moment, he heaved a heavy sigh in an effort to control himself, then he broke down in tears.

"We weren't trying to crash your stupid stinking party! We were hungry! And you silly sissified souls wouldn't feed us. So, Thorin decided to incite a riot."

"Why were you squares in our forest to begin with?" asked the king, after a moment to compose himself. The hairdresser sighed and batted the king with his comb.

"When did Mirkwood become 'your' forest! I didn't see your name on it!" remarked Kili.

"It is written on every tree. 'This forest belongs to me!' So there! I can't help it that you are illiterate! What were you doing in my forest!" demanded the Elvenking. The hairdresser hurriedly hushed him. His anger was causing him to squirm too much and it was doing even worse things to his hair.

"Oh, we were out for a little afternoon stroll," Ori answered.

"Nop!" answered the king.

"Hunting?" suggested Kili.

"Not today."

"The truth of it is," started Bifur, "We were on our way to visit our cousins in the Iron Hills. We are having a big celebration, because Ethel, Dain's only daughter has finally snared herself a dwarf. Dain only had to lay flat three cities and pay out 15,00 gold pieces to do so."

"Bull! It was 25 cities, and 50,000 gold pieces and a whole coupon book good for forty meals at McDonald's," muttered Bofur.

"Shut up, Bofur! Or I shall be happy to lay out your insides!" remarked Fili.

"Take these vile disgusting rodent infested cretins to the dungeons! Make sure you give them all good baths before hand. And after a couple of centuries, they may understand the light of Boy George Groupie Association of Mirkwood!" ordered the king. The hairdresser squeezed out some mousse and prepared to do his special job.

"Why you #$&(!"yelled Kili.

The Elvenking developed terminal split ends at that moment. The hairdresser cursed and threw the bottle mousse over his shoulder. "With the used car commercials" added the king in his distress.

The guards took the whining dwarves away. The Elvenking slouched low on his throne. Exhausted and near tears, he tried to recompose himself, as the hairdresser tried to redo the king's hair after the grand mess the dwarves had caused.

Bilbo briefly thought of leaving them all behind until the smell from the kitchen wafted his nose, and he eagerly followed. He could learn to like it here! Being of such a generous nature, he cleaned the kitchen three or four times before each meal, and he cleaned it once after each meal. He never gave much thought to the dwarves until he heard a little voice in his head that said:

"You need to think of a plan to rescue the dwarves. You will not leave this place without them! I have such beautiful plans for them! I will not have my plans ruined! If you fail me, I'll have Mr. Clean pay a visit to that hellhole you call fondly home!"

After this occurrence, Bilbo plotted and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and plotted on how to rescue the dwarves. It took him several weeks, and he still didn't figure out a plan, but he was keeping himself well fed as often as possible.

Now the wood elves are an extremely clean race of people. Bilbo couldn't take all this cleanliness (although he was more than happy to clean the kitchen, the pots and plans and the dishes). So, he just had to do some redecorating of the place. He splashed large quantities of wine on the floor and walls. He tossed garbage into every corner and even out in the main pathways. He smeared fertilizer on the walls and the linens. He even wrote his name on the oriental rug in the throne room. (He needed the feeling of home.) He poured molasses all over every thing and down he king's underwear (It would have been his pants, but he wore a dress). That turned out to be a very sticky situation, indeed. The elves were all very prompt in cleaning up all this mess, and the king didn't really mind the molasses, because it gave him an excuse for a long relaxing bubble bath. It was so hard for Bilbo to keep up with all of these suzy spotless elves. After all, he was just one small hobbit against so many elves.

The stress of such a job sent Bilbo under the Elvenking's bed three times a week with a nervous breakdown. Now, the hobbit would have been spending more time under the bed, except for the plentiness of food and his sense of hobbit duty in dirtying up the place. The elves couldn't understand why they were having such a food shortage. So, they finally decided to call in an exterminator. The following Wednesday the exterminator was coming. So, Bilbo only had until Wednesday to rescue the dwarves and himself, or else he would be exterminated. Now all the screaming and yelling he did under the king's bed made the king think that this was a new rock fad. So, he started to crawl under the bed himself and scream and yell on a daily basis. That was the final straw. The hobbit now had no place to have a nervous breakdown. He really had to get out of this place.

Now, the dwarves weren't faring too well either. The elves bathed them everyday, then tied them to chairs and forced them to watch those commercials of the lowest type. The dwarves prayed that the elves would have a water shortage and a power outage everyday. Those commercials were driving them crazier than the hobbit did, and Bombur no longer had his centerfold of Bertha to comfort him! They were truly miserable.

Wednesday, just before the exterminator came, Bilbo ran around in a frenzy and ran into a wall. When he woke up, he saw the elves rolling barrels to the cellar, where there was a trap door, that they pushed the barrels into the river from. It struck him as the barrel rolled over his prone body that was in the middle of the pathway. Stuff the dwarves in the barrels and send them up the river. Who knows, they may drown in the process.

Bilbo conveniently stole the chief guard's keys and wallet. He set each dwarf free. Dizzy and half crazed from their tortures, they didn't seem to care that Bilbo stuffed them barrels and kicked them in the river. So, with a quick hurried effort, the hobbit acquired many and a various wallet and swam to shore before the exterminator came. The harmonious sounds of the music of the Culture Club floated down the river after him, but they soon faded to the hobbit's relief.

Leaving the barrels of the dwarves in the river (and the floating picture of Bertha that had finally caught up to them from unknown parts of the forest), Bilbo went in search of food. He found a campsite, and he promptly ate it.


	10. Chapter 10: A Warm Welcome

A/N: I was busy with my Fictionpress writing on Thursday night, so this got pushed behind a bit. Anyway, I will uploading two chapters today. They're short, but they are still two chapters. Although many of the things in this parody were stolen for other stories that I wrote or I wrote with someone (like the nervous breakdown the Brigadier has in "The Curse of Tinkerbell" ), I stole something from another one of my stories for this one for a change! Not to mention all the other things lifted from the media! Oh well, I'm not making any money off of this.

My thanks to The Lady of the Light, IcySaphire, and Glorfindel34 for reading.

Disclaimer: Tolkien is hiding his head in shame. He never meant for his work to be taken this way!

Chapter 10: A Warm Welcome

Come morning, Bilbo woke up to find himself surrounded by thirteen barrels, and the pin up of Bertha laying plastered lovingly over the top of one of them. Thinking a moment, he decided to pry open one of the barrels to see what might be in there that he could eat. Opening the first barrel, he found a grouchy waterlogged dwarf, who firmly slugged him with a heavy wet sleeve. Bilbo snapped his fingers 'Oh darn!' The dwarf had survived. He went to the next barrel in hopes of better luck, but he found another soggy grouchy dwarf, who slapped him hard with a waterlogged sleeve. He went around and freed all thirteen dwarves with cold waterlogged sleeves that whapped him hard. Since there were no more barrels to open, he slouched down relieved that he wouldn't get whapped again. Bombur found his precious centerfold, grabbed it and hugged it close to himself. He ran to the hobbit and gave him a big kiss. Bilbo sputtered and spewed and grasped for breath. Bombur had regained all his weight while with the elves. Most of the dwarves would get moody and skip a meal or two, and Bombur offered to eat their meals for them.

Now, the trip was long and hard on all above, and thirteen dwarven bellies had a major growling contest with the hobbit's belly. The hobbit's tummy won out over each individual dwarven tummy, even Bombur's stomach. So, with very little decision or argument (except the involved tummies), the dwarves had the expert food finding hobbit led them to their next free meal.

Well, Bilbo put his nose to the ground, and Thorin tied a rope around his neck like a leash. It would never due to lose the hobbit at this stage. Bilbo caught the scent and took off like a shot to Laketown. It took twelve dwarves to hold back the ravenous hobbit, or else, he would have eaten the guards at the gate. Thorin dusted down his grimy clothes and announced his presence with a loud obnoxious belch.

"I am the grandson of King Under the Mountain, and I am bloody hungry! FEED ME!"

Now, humans in this world are peculiar little creatures. They have a thing for a thing for anything that is 4'0" or shorter. So what if they may be a slight shade of disgusting brown and green and smelled like there was a really good reason for that browness and one of them waved around a rather nauseating poster of a troll in a compromising position. As a result of all these factors, the men had a slight conference and came to the conclusion that this was some kind of positive sign from the gods. They hefted up the smelly slimy dwarves and happily paraded through town. The elders of the town knew immediately that Thorin had returned, because there was no mistaking that smell. So, they would have promptly demanded that the dwarves pay them back for the money owed them and the damages the dragon had done to their previous home, but they were stampeded by the marching parade.

The parade deposited Thorin on the platform in the middle of town. He cleared his throat and straightened his clothes. Throwing back, he announced in no uncertain terms, "I'M HUNGRY! FEED ME!"

No one paid him the slightest bit of attention. Meanwhile, the hobbit and the rest of the dwarves went in search of taking care of more important things. Since all the humans were out on the street cheering Thorin's magnificent speech on, the houses stood empty. The dwarves and the hobbit casually took this to their advantage and raid each house's refrigerator and ate until they felt somewhat contented and might survive the ceremonies. They then returned to the celebration, where Thorin was now jumping up and down and demanding "FEED ME!"

The traveling shopping wood elves just ignored the silly humans and the scurrying ravenous dwarves. They figured that the dwarves were part of a traveling sideshow, and they should be ignored. This opinion came about, because once upon a time, a certain sideshow artist sold the Elvenking a defective "All Purpose Beautifying Face-Lifting Guaranteed To Solve Split Ends Kit!" They never saw that dwarf again, although he was one of those held prisoner in their caves for the last few weeks.

Thorin gave another loud scream of "FEED ME!" to a cheering audience. Ah, the trials and tribulations of being the leader.

The humans continued to ignore his shouts, and after seven hours of parading him around town, they decided to feast in celebration. The twelve dwarves and the hobbit sat at the feast and ate as if they hadn't eaten in weeks. (They didn't want to offend the humans by not appropriately eating their whole portion of the feast). After eating about five servings for a brawny man twice his size, Thorin felt quite satisfied at finding someone, who appreciated his presence, then he continued to eat seven more servings.

The dwarves got invited to dinner at every house. So, they felt obligated to attend as often as possible. They ate to their heart's delight. Gloin and Oin did a few sales of useless items to the humans about town, and got even a few elven buyers. Otherwise, everyone else ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate until Laketown started to fall into the lake. The lord of the town gave them supplies and a firm flying kick to Lonely Mountain (Back where they belonged).


	11. Chapter 11: On the Doorstep

Chapter 11: On the Doorstep

The dwarves and the hobbit had finally come to the end of this long sill journey (although there was still quite a few chapters still left to go through), and they were all still surprisingly in one piece, alive, and extremely hungry. Bilbo, who for some reason, decided he was cheerful, and set up camp. Bombur, who was feeling quite happy too, because he got his lovely poster girl back, helped him, and pasted the picture to the side of the mountain. Of course, Bilbo's cheerfulness might have been due to the rumors he heard in Laketown and the wood elves kingdom that Smaug's favorite dish was roasted dwarf. Fili acquired a mischievous grin and went over to Bilbo. He slung his arm around the obnoxious hobbit and said brightly.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, you are going to go met our dear friend Smaug. You know, dragons live to do species tast testing, and I have heard that hobbits make good eating if properly cooked. I do hope our dear friend Smaug has heard this, too."

Bilbo smiled slightly and shrugged. Bombur kept messing with the campsite and whistling dirty barroom tunes. There was a heck of a lot more dwarves there than there were hobbits. Not to mention, certain hobbits could become invisible. So, he figured that why should a dragon settle for one when he could get thirteen for the same price.

For five days they waited on the doorstep. Several and various drawings of tic-tac-toe games and hangman games were scrawled on the walls. (That should drive the archeologist crazy!) Of course, the many and various games had to take a second seater to the many and various graffiti and the most interesting diagrams that Fili and Kili drew, that depicted Bilbo's untimely demise. The hobbit didn't pay any mind. He, Thorin, and Bombur did some drawings of their own, that would be more than a little entertaining to archeologists of the future, and Bombur left message to Bertha that this was going to be his new residence. She just needed to ring the bell for cave number 47 to get him. They also spent and a goodly amount of time creating new names to call each other over cheating at the said drawn games. They also spent time in retaliating for said names. Fili happily occupied himself by kicking Bilbo off the mountain. He had heard that hobbits bounced, and he wanted to see if it were true. It was.

So, finally, on Wednesday night, their fifth night, something finally happened, and Bilbo felt an icy chill go down his back. (Of course, that could have been due to the margarita that Bifur poured down his back.) He never could get the hang of Wednesdays after he left his hobbit hole. The sun was setting, and a thrush came a knocking. He knocked on each of the dwarves' heads, and then he went to the hobbit's head and kept on knocking. The hobbit chased the bird away with the threat of a roast pheasant (Bilbo didn't know his birds very well), but it came back. There were some really good snails there. Then it suddenly struck him like lightning to his britches. While patting out his smoldering pants, Bilbo heard a distant voice say,

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K."

The fire blazed harder, as the hobbit failed to realize the cryptic message in this message. "Oops, wrong line," he heard in his head. There was a clearing of a throat and the words flowed, "When the thrush knocks on your head, you will find the keyhole."

Just when Fili decided to kick the hobbit off the side of the mountain yet again, Bilbo jumped up and exclaimed in a loud obnoxious tone (partly because, he just found his sword "Sting" the hard way):

"Get Thorin! The Keyhole!" he exclaimed.

The dwarves looked at each other confused. What did their favorite sleazy magazine shop have to do with this occasion, and how did Bilbo find out about it!

Bilbo grabbed Ori by the ear and forced him to look at the appearing keyhole. The dwarf looked intrigued and decided to take a peek inside, but he didn't see anything of interest inside. There were no bathing female dwarves there! He complained quite loudly about this.

All the commotion brought Thorin over to them. He looked confused at the keyhole, but Bilbo was feeling the strain of his unquenchable undies burning important parts of his anatomy. He yanked the key around the master dwarf's neck and shoved it into the keyhole. The lock clicked and the door swung open. Since there was nothing of interest to see inside, Fili kicked Bilbo off the side of the mountain, but Kili won the bet at how high the hobbit would bounce this time.


	12. Chapter 12: Inside Information

A/N: Well, now I am at the handwritten pages, and I am surprised that I can actually read my writing after all this time. Oh well, anyway.This bit is a bit slashy. Well, it's not a mutual slash. Hey! It's parody! And I have been challenged to work in that bit about Bertha in every chapter. This time around you get three chapters for the price of one. Wo-hoo! Chapter 13 is really short. My continual thanks to my reviewers and all readers out there.

Discalaimer: I am certain that Tolkien is really rolling in his grave now!

Chapter 12: Inside Information

It took Bilbo awhile to climb back up the mountain this time. As soon as he reached the others, Fili kicked him inside the tunnel. Bilbo coughed and gagged, but soon his lungs got used to it. After all, he had been smoking most of this journey, most of his life . . . well, he was born with a pipe in his mouth. He put the ring on so that he could steal with ease and not prying eyes. Not to mention, he would be staying out of the dragon's sight, and therefore being placed on the menu.

The hobbit found Smaug sound asleep. He folded his hands and sighed. The dragon was so cute when he slept, especially because he was wearing that golden diaper. Bilbo sneaked up to the dragon and stole that diaper. Nothing needed to be that cute! He quietly and swiftly fled up that tunnel to the dwarves again. Being quite proud of this grand achievement, he had thoughts as to who was going to be kicked off the mountain this time.

The dwarves were thrilled to have Smaug's great golden diaper (with additional presents included). Each of them claimed that it was his bravery that brought this prize forward. Bombur was especially thrilled and added to his graffiti to Bertha that he was now a rich dwarf. Then suddenly, the mountain roared and the dragon appeared. He was not happy that his diaper had been stolen. How would you feel if someone stole your diaper as you slept? He had to get up and go outside to use the bathroom, instead of sleeping straight through it all. See, you can't blame him for being upset. After being so proud of the prize at hand, the dwarves all pointed fingers at the hobbit, and they all blamed him for their predicament. Fili called him something interesting and not of the PG-13 variety, and he kicked the hobbit off the mountain again. The 'fur' brothers placed bets for how high he would bounce. Bilbo scrambled up the mountain and into the doorway. Smaug had roasted ponies for supper, but he could not find the thief or his ditey.

Now, the next day, the dwarves decided to send Bilbo back down to get something else. He refused.

"I do refuse. I am sick and tired of Fili kicking me off this mountain!" Bilbo exclaimed.

"It is your job to steal!" insisted Thorin cooly.

"Yeah, that's why Gandalf chose a hobbit for the job," Bofur told him.

The hobbit stood back with his arms crossed. "I will not steal anymore until I get your word the Fili won't kick me off this mountain when Smaug gets upset!" insisted Bilbo.

They all grunted their promise and their word of honor. So, Bilbo threw back his head and marched back down to the tunnel. He was, of course, invisible. He didn't feel like being a roasted hobbit. He knew that Smaug would be expecting him.

"Hello, thief!" he heard a ladylike voice in a dragon sort of way. "Come, let me see you."

"Oh, Smaug. I am not in the mood to become well done and slabbed on a silver platter," answered Bilbo.

"I will not roast you. That is not my idea. I desire your sexy round body!" answered the dragon, blinking his big yellow eyes.

"HUH!"

"You heard me, sweetie cheeks."

"What's wrong with you? Are you related to the sissy wood elves?"

"No, this story gets boring with no females running about. So when all else fails, go for what is left."

"Oh, good God!"

"That's what I said after the first five hundred years without a nice cuddly female dragon. Then there is that Bertha troll woman. Not a bad catch, but she is as illusive and imaginary as they come and never makes an appearance in this story. This author is absolutely utterly cruel. So, what's a fellow to do?"

Bilbo cleared his throat and held up an invisible finger. "Please, excuse me a moment."

"All right."

Bilbo went quietly and calmly behind a rather sizeable pile of gold and had a nice little nervous breakdown. After a few minutes (And without the added heckling from the dwarves), he brushed down his invisible self and went back to business. Smaug looked very confused.

"Do you have these fits often?" asked the dragon wagging his tail in thought.

"What fits?" The hobbit asked, playing innocent.

"It must be that New Kind of Music trend nowadays," answered Smaug after a thought.

"Whatever."

"You can have all the gold that you can carry. All I want is you."

"Ah," chimed Bilbo with a flashing lightbulb over his head. The light flashed one time real bright and shattered the glass. The dragon perked up his head and crossed his slitted eyes in more confusion. "We want to dead meat, flayed, chopped, and minced, laid out on a platter."

"Ah, honey buns, you don't mean it."

"It's true."

"I am invincible. Trust me, others before you have tried, and it was no use."

"Oh?"

"Come over here, darling, and I'll show you. I am totally armored head to the tip of my sexy tail."

Bilbo waddled over to inspect Smaug's seductively laid out body. It did not take long for him to find a bare spot. With another lightbulb shattering idea, he tickled the exposed flesh with a thrush feather (that he still thought was a pheasant). Smaug laughed hysterically. Bilbo quickly grabbed a cup and ran like hell. The dragon recovered and sat up disappointed. He scanned the chambers for his visitor and found the tunnel. Being the spurred lover that he was, he shot a flame up the tunnel with a few interesting names to go with it.

"If I can't have you, no one will have you!" he cried out.

Bilbo puffed and huffed up the tunnel. He had gained too much weight in the last few weeks. He managed to outrun the flames. The dwarves could hear the rumblings of the dragon, and they knew he was a bit more than a little peeved. He would be on the hunt again. As an end result of this, Fili threw Bilbo off the mountain again. The hobbit made a good sizeable bounce to the foot of the mountain. Kili gave his brother a good hearty smack on the back for a job well done. When Bilbo got back up the mountain, he was rather angry.

"You gave your word of honor!" insisted Bilbo.

"I know," answered Fili giggling, "but you have been with us long enough to know what that honor means."

"Yeah, why else would we hire someone like Gandalf?" Gloin remarked.

Thorin did not join them in their conversation. He was deep in thought about the Arkenstone, a rather sizeable diamond, that his old man conveniently stuck in his pocket before he was kicked out of the North. It was a nifty jewel and one got a kaleidoscope effect when one looked through it.

At nightfall, Bilbo got all antsy and insisted that they crowd in the tunnel and the door be shut after them. He knew the love crazed dragon was after them and especially him. He was afraid that Smaug could sniff him out from the skies, and he was most likely not wrong in that thought. Fili smiled brightly at the hobbit's anxiety, and he conveniently kicked him off the mountain yet again. The dwarves tried to desperately shut the door before the hobbit's return, but no such luck. Bilbo made a b-line back and squeezed in through the crack left just before the dwarves managed to close it.

Smaug knocked the upper part of the mountain down into the perch where the doorway was in his frustration. Then he flew off to Laketown, because he figured that his little visitor came from there and may have returned in the meantime. If not, the humans could prove an interesting diversion.

Bilbo had another nervous breakdown. There was no escape for them now. Fili took a conveniently available pole and beat him soundly, as he screamed and yelled.

Unknown to anyone, except the most gifted seers, who wouldn't be caught dead in this story, while Bilbo had his nervous breakdown, Smaug was ready to have a feast with his golden bib (with the grizzly picture of a dwarf being cracked open) on, but he was not to return.


	13. Chapter 13: Not at Home

Chapter 13: Not at Home

"Knock, knock, Smaug. Are you at home?" asked Bilbo in a sweet innocent voice. "I have come back, honey bun."

There was no answer. Bilbo pondered, took a torch and ventured down to the main hall. Nop! Smaug had left town.

"Yippee! The old sticko, gaybird left town. Plunder time!" yelled Bilbo excitedly.

The dwarves decided to have a party (Bertha poster included), and they did so.


	14. Chapter 14: Fire and Water

Chapter 14: Fire and Water

Now what does the story of fire and water got to do with this. You know fire hates water; water hates fire. Big fat hairy deal. This chapter is about dear ole Smaug dropping dead.

See, when Bilbo rejected him, he decided to take it out on Laketown, which was a good idea to him. So with his best barbequing powers in tact, he ran (well, flew) down to Laketown and burned it off the map. Those lucky maps! Of course, this stuck on himself dude named Bard the dingiest, clumsiest, and stupidest creature that walked Middle Earth had other plans. By accident, he tripped over his own feet while showing off to his cohorts that he could fire dance, and he shot off an arrow. The arrow conveniently brought the dragon down. Bard was proclaimed the hero. Smaug grasped his chest, made a few gagging noise, and did a graceful swan dive into the lake, effectively flooding out the town. Not exactlywhathe had intended to do, but it did erect some sort of revenge. Oh, poor Smaug would never meet that wonder called Bertha or any other female for that matter.

Now, most men are not so dumb to leave it at that (After all, Bard was bright enough to realize that gold might persuade that sexy troll woman in the fat dwarf's photo to come to town. The rest of the men of the town groaned in despair), and neither are the visiting shopping Wood Elves. They knew that there was gold in that there mountain just for the taking. The dwarves and that weirdo bunny thing were most likely long dead, cooked, eaten, and were a pile somewhere. Everything must come out in the end, you know. So, the men and elves went for the gold in that there mountain. Now the elves were none too sure about this venture, and they wanted to be sure that this was the right dragon. Men did tend to exaggerate things, and they were the brightest or most patient of creatures. So, the elves figured would just let the men go and find out if the dragon was gone or not. If he wasn't the men would get roasted instead of them. If he was good and gone, they'd come and get their share of the gold. After all, gold did have a way of persuading Boy George into coming back to Mirkwood.


	15. Chapter 15:The Gathering of the Clouds

A/N: Well, the story is winding down. There are some interesting reseults from typing this up from the hand written version, and I no longer can read my handwriting of that time, and things are a bit water stained and what not, and it doesn't help that I couldn't remember about Ex-Lax. Oh well, I am supporting a different company now.

My continualthanks to the folk who are survivng this atrocity. You are loved.

Disclaimer: Tolkien's ghost is happy that this is almost over.

Chapter 15: The Gathering of the Clouds

During this time, the dwarves had partied and partied and partied, and they were pretty pooped out and sprawled out over the piles of gold. Bilbo did a more practical thing and stuffed his pockets with all the gold and jewels that he could get his hands on. He stumbled upon the Arkenstone, held it up to the eye and saw a multitude of unconscious dwarves. He gave a small yelp, and dropped the stone. Because it was a rather sizeable diamond and could buy several Big Macs, he picked it back up and stuffed it in his pocket. If he had known that this was that very special item that Thorin had wanted, he would have been sure to make the dwarf squirm for it. He didn't know this. His IQ wouldn't allow it.

After several hours of sonorous snores and afternoon naps, Balin and Fili went outside. For some strange reason, Bilbo felt the need to follow. It could have been because he needed to know what happened to Smaug. If the dragon was dead, then he was a free hobbit again. Balin tweeted to a raven, and the bird looked at him as if he was the idiot that he really was. Being bored, Fili kicked Bilbo off the mountain again. Instead of seeing desolated land before him as ususal, he saw many campfires. He returned to the dwarves with the news.

"We already know that! Balin remembered which tweety was raven, and he found out from the raven. He got one up on you, too. They are armies of the men and elves that we graced our wonderful presence with," Fili told him, as he kicked him off the cliff again. Bilbo was getting sick of this!

When he returned again to the dwarves, (which was a bad move!) He learned that Dain, Thorin's cousin, was coming to join the party. (That's exactly what we don't need is more dwarves!) The dwarves sang an extended version of the Black Sea song that included a few dirty barroom ditties. Dwarves will be dwarves after all. The song sent Bilbo off drowning once again, but this time there were piranha eating him alive. Bilbo still loved this song, and he had no idea why. The last thing a piranha would want to do is eat a hobbit. Even they have their priorities.

Bright and early the elves and men approached the mountain, but they scurried away as soon as they heard the army of snores coming from the dwarves. They thought that the dragon had returned. They tried again at noon, especially after the elves gave them some gentle persuasion like their spears to their backs. There was no snoring this time. The men continued forward, and the elves followed at a safe distance behind them. When the men met the dwarves, the elves hurried to join the rest of the party.

"What do you want?" asked Thorin with great anger. He was in the middle of raiding the supplies that Dain had brought with him, and he didn't want to be disturbed.

"Uh . . . uh . . . What did we want?" asked bard, the leader of the men. Men can pick the worst leaders.

"We want some gold to rebuild our town. After all, we killed the dragon," answered one of the men.

"Yeah, what he said," Bard added.

"And what about the elves. We owe them nothing!" exclaimed Thorin, who was still having nightmares about those used car commercials.

"Except a whopper of an extermination bill that could kill. Extermination is really where the money is at!" complained the Elvenking.

"Not to mention, my broken fingernail!" added the guard, who held up his finger with the sorely broken nail, and effectively flipping of the dwarves. "I lost it as I pushed too heavy of barrels into the lake. There is no amount of money that can replace my terrible loss."

"We aren't planning to pay for your lost fingernail," replied Thorin coolly.

"Well, we could come to a compromise in the price!" the elf insisted.

"Get out of my hair!" exclaimed Thorin.

"We only ask for enough gold to repair our town," answered the man, who spoke earlier.

"We have plenty of gold and some to spare. I could rob these dwarves blind, and they would never know the difference, since there is so much gold," Bilbo remarked. He was wanting to get this adventure over with so that he could get home to see the new year's season of his favorite sitcoms.

"Bilbo, would you like to fall from the cliff again?" Fili asked with that malicious grin of his.

"I figure I will again anyway," answered Bilbo.

"Give us the gold. We have kill the dragon!" insisted the man.

"We did?" Bard asked as he looked up from the fine poster of Bertha that Bombur was sharing with him. He shared his poster with the plump dwarf, and they decided to trade off.

"Trust me!" Insisted the man, as he snatched the poster away from him. Bard pouted.

"You shall never have our gold! We are threatened enough by a thieving hobbit!" Thorin said pointedly, as he glared at Bilbo, who casually returned the Elvenking's wallet to its place.

"This means war!" insisted the man.

"What's war?" asked Bard.

"Oh, I cannot possibly do a war today. I have a very important appointment with my hairstylist today. Must look my best for such events, you know. Maybe we can have a war tomorrow afternoon," the Elvenking suggested.

"I agree with the men. This means war over my broken fingernail."

"Go ahead! See if I care!" exclaimed Thorin, "But hold it off until Dain gets his act together and the Metamucil has kicked in."

"Ok," agreed Bard happily before anyone could complain.

"As long as I can visit my hair stylist, I am go with it," replied the Elvenking.

"Oh yeah, by the way, you all are under siege. No food thieving from you guys," the other man added.

The thought of siege, soon lack of food, and other necessities drove Bilbo silently and calmly back into the mountain for another nervous breakdown.


	16. Chapter 16: A Thief in the Night

Chapter 16: A Thief in the Night

Several weeks passed, with the passing of the weeks and the new excuses for each side to hold off on this war, Bilbo had more and more nervous breakdowns. One day, Fili decided to kick him off of the mountain again. This time he did not crawl back up immediately, because he rolled into the camps of the elves and men. They promptly captured him and brought him before Bard and the Elvenking, who were doing each other's nails.

Bilbo stood up stately before them, and they both stopped what they were doing, which looked like painting little butterflies on the nails. They had to hold their noses to breathe, and thus smearing paint on their faces.

"Would you like to move downwind of us?" asked the Elvenking.

Bilbo complied and moved downwind.

"Are you a spy?" asked the Elvenking.

"No. I fell from the cliff, but if you feed me and let me use the privy, then let me go, I'll sell out my friends," replied Bilbo, playing the poor pathetic victim.

"Okay, let's hear it out!" the Elvenking ordered adjusting his damaged curls, that the fumes coming off of Bilbo were straightening out.

"Dain and his folk are on their way here. They will be here in a couple of days, and they are ready to kick some serious butt. From what I understand, they have to raid some village that Dain's wife ran off to, and they have to bring her back kicking and screaming. Anyway, from what I gather, these dwarves were privately trained by Gandalf in brutality, and the Metamucil didn't work. So, Dain is in a really foul mood. So, if I were you, I would vamos out of here," Bilbo told them.

"That deserves some food and freedom, don't you think?" Bard remarked.

"No, not yet!' answered the Elvenking, who was disgusted by Bard, because he didn't make spidery enough butterflies on his fingernails. Why couldn't they all be as cool as he! "I want proof!" he demanded of Bilbo.

The hobbit shrugged. "How about a bribe?"

"Sounds good to me!" exclaimed Bard happily.

"No," answered the Elvenking. He sat back and thought to himself and a little voice in his head said some prudent words. "Let's not be so hasty in this decision. You could receive something worth your while." So, he narrowed his eyes at the hobbit, and said, "What's the bribe?"

Bilbo rummaged through his pockets. He pulled out a year-old salami sandwich with some kind of green moss inching about on it, and promptly ate it. He then pulled out a dead and corroding rat that he ate too. By now, the Elvenking felt quite ill, and politely threw up his supper. Bard was fascinated by this. He clapped his hands with joy. Bilbo pulled out many other things and promptly ate them . . . such as a rusty wrench, three roaches, who had been suffocated by his stench, a small coo-coo clock that he had stolen from one of his neighbors, a set of encyclopedia that he lifted from Rivendell (One needed some material for those campfires for the cook out.), a dozen or so chains and balls (that he lifted from Gandalf), Bombur's prize picture of Bertha, and other things that were best left unspoken of. Finally, after pulling out the kitchen sink from Lonely Mountain, Bilbo pulled out the Arkenstone. He played with the sparkly lights for a bit, then he moved to eat it, but the Elvenking quickly took it from him. He was amazed that such a beautiful thing had fallen into such grubby hands, and Bard was fascinated by the worm crawling between the hobbit's toes. Bard stopped his observation of the wild life contain on the hobbit's personage, and looked up to the Elvenking and the magical mystical ball. The thought of a disco hall came to his mind as the sparkling colors played across the tent.

"That is one pretty ball there!" exclaimed Bard with his jaw gaping.

"Thorin would give his I teeth for this!" Bilbo happily informed them, "But for my freedom and a first, second, third and up to twenty-seventh meals, plus a possibility of some more plunders, I give you this spiffy bowling ball."

Bilbo was more sincere in the first two requests. The Elvenking agreed, and Bilbo ate everything within a three-mile radius, then he quietly returned to the dwarves, but he ran into Gandalf along the way. He nearly had a nervous breakdown on the spot. The wizard made sure he didn't.

"Well done!" he told Bilbo, "I will be very pleased when something unpleasant, I hope, comes your way. If all goes as planned, it will, and hopefully it will be your last thing you'll be through in one piece. A nice mutilation sounds rather nice this time of year, you know. Dear ole' Bolg got something like that in mind for you all. Let's just say that he wasn't exactly happy that you all were responsible for the death of his second cousin's half brother's boyfriend's mate."

Bilbo did not understand or care. His pockets were empty, but his stomach was full. So, he went back up the mountain and went to sleep it all off. That night he heard voices in his head.

"You want the best in technology, you've got it in Universal!"

Bilbo did not understand this or felt that it may have had a connection with the dream he had at home so long ago about "Let's go Krogering."


	17. Chapter 17: The Cloud Bursts

A/N: Well, here is the end of it. I have been busy reading a rather long story on Fictionpress, and I was a bit delayed on this piece. Again, I am stealing from my other stories for this, but I won't blow the fun of the line.

Disclaimer: Tolkien is finally sighing a sigh of relief that the buthery of his story is finally over. Of course, he doesn't know what I am planning for his baby "The Lord of the Rings"!

Chapter 17: The Clouds Burst

Trumpets rang totally out of tune the next day. The Elvenking's hair was a total wreck, and it was more so with the bad musical statement that Bard's men were making. He groaned and rolled off of his cot and slammed face first into the dirt floor with a curse unbecoming of any elf much less the prissy wood elf. Oh well, it was time to get up and bargain with the bloody dwarves. Two hours after the wake up call, the Elvenking was dressed powdered perfumed and his hair had gotten out of its bad hair day zone. He joined the men and they went to Thorin and Company to do their bargaining bit.

"Hi there!" Bard proclaimed cheerfully to the rather tee'd off dwarves, who stood in a group glowering at the party.

"We want to bargain with your stubborn useless brains!" exclaimed the man who spoke for Bard.

"No bargaining," Thorin answered flatly.

"You owe me for messing up my hair. My hairdresser needs quite a few dollars to do his best. My wallet does not know if it can handle all these extra expenses. This whole thing is a very disturbing situation!" complained the Elvenking.

A light of mischief lit Thorin's eye. "I have a solution for you and your hair problems,. Stick your finger in an outlet. It can be a hair raising experience. That is my piece of advice to you. You will get nothing more from me except the possible exception of Bilbo."

"No thank you! It is because of your Bilbo that I am in such a tether!" Answered the Elvenking.

Bard's spokesman stood before Thorin, as Bard played Tiddly-winks with Dori, Ori, and Nori. "Maybe you say no bargain now, but we have something that you want," he told Thorin.

"Oh yeah," remarked Thorin, "Honestly, you can keep Bard."

Bard looked up at his name and gave a bright smile. He rummaged through his sack and came up with Bombur's stolen picture of Bertha and his own. He showed it to the gathered dwarves. Bombur gasped and cried out his despair of loss. The fat dwarf tugged at Thorin's sleeve. The royal dwarf grimaced and turned to his companion with a simple, "No."

Bard's spokesman stood forward with a hooded old man behind him. "Maybe you say no bargain now, but we do have something that you want," he told Thorin. The old man rubbed his hand in eager anticipation.

"Oh yeah?"demanded Thorin.

"Oh yeah," the man answered, "What do you say to the Arkenstone!" The old man revealed a rather skimpy leather g-string. The dwarves looked confused. The men turned interesting shades of red, and the elves were jealous. The hooded man threw the item to the cheering elves and pulled out the dazzling jewel.

Thorin growled some not very nice things, then he demanded, "How did your filthy hands get on my jewels!"

"By way of the hobbit," Bard answered happily.

"Bilbo!" cried out the dwarves.

The hobbit turned an interesting shade of red and pulled up his britches. Regaining his composure, he pointed to himself and asked, "Who me?" He tried to play innocent, but that is the last thing that a hobbit would be good at.

"Yeah you!" exclaimed Thorin, kicking Bilbo in a convenient nearby river. The hobbit sank, but to everyone's disappointment, he emerged some distance down the banks. At least, he didn't look happy about it.

"Is there no way to kill a hobbit?" complained Thorin.

"Call in the exterminator," suggested the Elvenking.

"No!" exclaimed the hooded man, as he threw off the hooded cloak that fluttered away and flew over bard's head as he flipped the winning wink. "I have something much more unpleasant planned for him."

The whole group looked at each other in a silent conference. Oh, why not. Gandalf was a heck of a lot cheaper than the exterminator at this trip.

"We will return tomorrow. If you do not have any gold for us, we'll mutilate you all and take it anyway," exclaimed the man.

They marched off in a proper rhythm to the badly playing trumpets. It did not take long for the next day to come. It was a dark and gloomy day with big black clouds to the north. No one thought anything of it, since Bilbo and Gandalf had that bean eating contest the night before.

Bilbo got up that day and stretched out his insignificant limbs. "Ah, it looks like it will be a lovely day today." Fili shrugged and kicked the hobbit off the mountain. This time the hobbit landed at the feet of Dain. The hobbit gave a little wave to the dour dwarf.

"Hey, Thorin! Your cousin is here!" He shouted at full volume, which is remarkably high for such a small rodent. There were three resulting earthquake as a result of his cry. Hobbits were given such amazing vocal chords as a protection against that impending exterminator threat.

Thorin pooped out of the mountain to wish Dain a hearty greeting. It made one wonder what he would have done if he were not pleased to see his cousin.

"Same to you, Thorin," Dain answered.

Thorin and Company soon joined Dain and Company. They had a small party, and they went to battle. They shot arrows at the elves' and men's camp. Bard jumped up in his normal happy way and began singing, "A battling we will go, a battling we will go, heigh ho a merry go, a battling we will go!"

The Elvenking fervently hoped that Bard would be among the first casualties of war. The Elvenking, for his part, was in a much better mood. He saw his hairdresser last night and he did look his best for the event. Just as everyone was ready to do battle and get this on and over with, Gandalf popped up in the middle of it.

"Party pooper!" complained Dain.

"Beware! The goblins come from the North to put a damper on your day. Bolg is their leader, and from what I have heard on the thorn vine, Nain, Dain's daddy, said a few obscene things to Azog, Bolg's daddy. They had a little spat, where Nain stabbed Azog then ran off with Bolg's mom. So, Bolg is here to say his obscenities, shish-kabob him, and run off with Dain's wife," Gandalf announced.

Dain shrugged. "He can have my wife. I have no need of her."

The armies stood around and waited. Well, sort of. Some of the dwarves, men, and elves had a merry little game of craps going on. Nori was taking down bets on who would win this war. The Elvenking felt the need to do his nails again, and his servant was jamming down with his walkman. It was not long before the first goblin appeared. He ran full force into the party, made a rude comment to the Elvenking, passed the whole party, then disappeared for awhile to places unknown. He soon returned, with a much relieved look on his face.

"I am the spokesman for our glorious king, master of terror and the amazing 27 way (Don't ask), his lord sliminess and crudeness, King Bolg of the North. We have a special invitation (that due to its frilliness, we figured came from the Elvenking here) to a special little shin dig going on at this very place . . . Actually, it was signed by a very unpleasant little wizardry person that we have done business with on the occasional occasion . . ."

At that instance, an arrow struck down this messenger, but a second messenger appeared to take his place and started the speech from where the other left off with a few added remarks not necessary to the context.

" . . . you people are not pleasant in the least little bit, and you talk about how we are party crashers and all . . . well, maybe we are, but . . ."

That sent another arrow. No one knew where these arrows were coming from, although Gandalf handed a crossbow back to a nearby elf. At that, the goblin army had finally arrived. The battle was ready to begin. After a very few name calling exchange, the men, elves and dwarves jumped in to fight with the goblins and wolves.

Bofur came face to face with a goblin that seemed strikingly familiar, especially since his weapon of choice was a cast iron skillet.

"Don't I know you?" asked Bofur as he squinted at his opponent.

"I think so. Weren't you captured a few months ago in the Misty Mountains with a smelly little rabbit thingie?" he asked.

"Yes," answered the dwarf.

"I'm the cook that got kind of tangled up with you guys, and you let me go!" he announced happily.

"Yeah. I remember you were the only one that made any sense out of the whole bunch. Sorry about your king."

The goblin shrugged. "Ah, that's all in the past, and we go through kings pretty quickly anyway. Hey! What say, we leave this silly story and pop down to the local pub for a couple of beers until this all blows over."

Bofur thought this over a bit and shrugged a why not. So, the two of them disappeared without anyone noticing.

Elsewhere at the battle ground, Bilbo was not faring too good. He ran into several close calls. This, as one may expect, brought about some more of his nervous breakdowns. Quickly and quietly, he placed the ring on his finger, picked everyone's pockets, then he crawled under a rock and let the nervous breakdown fly. A goblin, who heard this strange shrieking and screaming noise coming from an ordinary rock, beat the said rock with a club. The hobbit was casually banged on the head and fell unconscious. The goblin, satisfied that he had successfully killed the rock, kicked it for good measure and went on about his business of trying to kill the rest of the cast.

During the time that Bilbo was unconscious, the eagles came. They kindly came to pick up the goblins and drop them off at Long Lake . . . quite literately. They smelled bad, too, and they needed the bath. Since being dropped from 50,000 feet in the air didn't sit too well with the goblin, and they kind of splattered on impact and goblins were black blooded, the lake became henceforth called the Black Sea, although there was a great debate of the name. The dwarves wanted to name it "Drop It Here", and the elves came up with a fluffy cute name for it. The elves were told to go home and mind their own land. The dwarves' name was a good one, because of the sizeable dragon there and the many humans that he took down with his death, and now there were dead goblins there, too. What a smelly situation this was going to be come summer! Now Beorn showed up and carried off several screaming goblins including Bolg, who had fallen asleep during the battle. He had partied too hardy the night before. Anyway, now Beorn had resupplied his menu for his restaurant and he was happy. With the king of the opposite invading force gone, and the Elvenking returned to his hairdresser (The whole hairy situation had given him split ends), the war ended, and there was great rejoicing.


	18. Chapter 18: The Return Journey

Chapter 18: The Return Journey

Bilbo woke with a well deserved headache. He shook his head and the rest of his body to clear it. He saw no living creature in the vast mess before him. Then he heard that blasted voice that he had often heard in his head before he could creep away.

"So, you're still alive, you little rodent! Get your butt down here!"

Bilbo went unwillingly down to the tents. He entered to see Thorin nearly dead. Gandalf, who the voice belonged to, motioned for him to come closer. He came closer to the once King Under the Mountain. The dwarf took one sniff of his stench and died with his arms and legs straight up in the air.

"Thank you. You have done well," Gandalf announced.

"Done what? I just walked in," defended Bilbo.

"You have killed him. I thought he would never shut up about being King Under the Mountain and die."

"Good. Can I go home now?"

"Oh, if you insist!"

The hobbit jumped up and clicked his heels. He ran to get his things, which pretty much belonged to everyone else, and then he prepared to leave. He suddenly remembered something and held his finger up for Gandalf to wait. He had important business to take care. After he was done running around the mountain in an expectant way, he asked, "Where's Fili?"

"He's dead," the wizard answered flatly.

"Oh darn! That is a pity."

Gandalf raised his bushy eyebrows. "Mr. Bilbo Baggins, what has gotten into you? You pity his death because of his youth."

"No, I owe him a kick off of this mountain!"

"It is good to know that this adventure has not changed you much."

"Is Kili dead, too?"

"What about Bombur?"

"Oh, he's still alive, but he left to go in search of Bertha the Troll."

"How about Balin?"

"That one is still alive and still here."

"Ah, good. Please, excuse me a moment."

Bilbo walked away grinning an evil grin. He caught up to the old dwarf. They talked about some old times and had a drink or two, as they walked to the cliff, where Bilbo happily kicked him off. He quietly and contentedly came back down to and rejoined Gandalf. Balin came scurrying to them.

"Why fore you kick me off the mountain?" he asked.

"Because Fili and Kili are dead, and you're a good sucker and you're still here and alive."

They turned to leave. Bilbo was eager to return to his garbage heap. Gandalf went with him. He wanted to see if he could get Bilbo killed yet. They met the Elvenking on their way home, and Bilbo left him a smelly present before they left. The king opened the daintily gift wrapped present and was bombarded with an exceptional stink. Oh well, it was back to the hairdresser again.

The hobbit and the wizard had many misadventures, in which we will not discuss in the hopes of keeping the good taste is left to this story. Most of theses adventures were provided by Gandalf, but Bilbo had learned to fend for himself in the wide world to the wizard's dismay. They met Beorn, who arranged to have some daily goblin hunts. There were a lot of scattered goblins about, and his restaurant was having a discount on all goblin items.


	19. Chapter 19:The Last Stage

Chapter 19: The Last Stage

Upon a gloomy May day, (You know the saying, "April Showers bring May flowers". Not here does that apply. "April showers bring more May showers".) The two unwanted guest returned to Rivendell. Elrond prayed that it was untrue, but it was unfortunately very true. Bilbo made himself at home. He ate until food nearly came out his ears and other less savory body parts. Afterwards, he crawled off into the nearest garbage can to sleep. His snores were enough to jar the whole village. The elves, who really sang about anything still, sang their distress to the rhythm of the snores. It was their gentle way of saying "Get Out!"

"Sing all ye desperately now sing all together,

Jump out of a tree-top, Bilbo, please, jump out!

The stars are in misery, 'Cause your snores are murder!

The moon is sick, 'Cause of your degrading existence!

Dance all ye joyfully, now dance all together!

That will be happening if you just drop dead!

The river is rippled, 'Cause your snore are deafenin'!

They jar the world, and we wish you were diced!

"Sing we now loudly, and dreams let us weave him.

Bind him in slumber. Feed him to a dragon!

The murderer sleepeth. Oh, we wish the dragon here!

Murderer, leave us now, have many nightmares!

A nightmare exactly what your sick self is!

Leave us! Dark is our land

All because of yourself!

Stick boot and sock in

His ove'grown mouth!"

Bilbo did not wake until a week later. He promptly pigged out again, and went back to the garbage can to sleep it off again. This was his normal routine, even on Wednesday, but after the garbage collection was done for the week. He usually got up and went to eat at this time. When the food supply ran out, he had a nice little nervous breakdown on the grand dining table in Elrond's meeting room.

Eventually, Elrond was relieved to know that Gandalf and Bilbo were going in July, and he woke up one July morning to the peace and quiet of the world. They were gone, and there was much rejoicing!

Bilbo and Gandalf returned to where the trolls were still stoned. The hobbit hung his waistcoat on one of the troll's extended finger, that actually said a rude gesture. Cracking his knuckles, he set about digging up the treasure that was buried there. Gandalf just stood off to the side with the shovel that he had appropriated from Rivendell for this job. The hobbit found a few more pictures of Bertha in other compromising positions, and he brought them home with him in memory of the now missing Bombur.

After many interesting other adventures, that are really not worth mentioning here, and some of them would have upped the rating of this story higher than the writer wants, Bilbo finally returned home. All was not well in Hobbitton. Bilbo found that his neighbors had come over and cleaned houses. . . literally. Everything was missing and the place was clean. He quietly excused himself from Gandalf's company, went upstairs, and he had another nervous breakdown on his clean and bare bedroom floor. With all the gold that he had taken from the troll's treasure, he was able to re-garbage his house and resupply the food with plenty of money left over. He also had all the gold that he had stole from the elves, dwarves, and the men, Beorn, and the goblins . . . Yes, everything was back to normal (or at least, back to abnormal). He decided to take up writing, and became a best selling author with such titles as: How to Poach Your Neighbor, Gandalf and Other People to Avoid, My Failure to Revenge Myself on Fili, and All My Nervous Breakdowns under the Bed.

He lived quite happily until Gandalf and Balin appeared at his doorstep. He fixed them some tea and went upstairs under his bed, where he had his usual nervous breakdown. When he returned, he was all cheery eyed and smiling. Balin smiled at him.

"Remember inspecting the mountain after the war, and you kicking me off it?" asked Balin.

"Yes," smiled Bilbo nervously.

Balin pulled out a baseball bat. "I believe in revenge. I did not deserve that kick, so you deserve this beating."

"Excuse me a moment," Bilbo said calmly with a crooked smile on his face, "I must have another nervous breakdown."

"Oh no, not this time, dearie!" Gandalf said as he turned Bilbo around. Balin got up with his baseball bat. Bilbo shrieked and ran with Balin at his heels banging his head with the bat all over the entire shire.


End file.
